That Secret Place

Have you ever had a special place that was just yours? When I was younger (we still take these trips, I just started this way to sound nostalgic:)) we took 2 annual trips with my extended family on my mom's side, one in the summer, and one at Thanksgiving. Now, my cousins were slightly dangerous and erratic. They grew up in the Arizona desert where the wilderness crept up right behind their houses, kissing the edge of their lush, green, mowed lawn, leaving a perfect funnel for their imagination to go crazy. 

     When my brothers and I would visit, we were led into their territory. The latest fort they had built, the tallest tree they could climb, and two of these will always be very dear to my heart. So as to not showcase our more dangerous adventures for all the world and tender-hearted parents to see, I'll speak of the first. 

     My grandparents had this huge tree in their backyard that was perfect for climbing. It had tons of knots and branches in all the right places, so that it was almost like climbing up stairs rather than a large, sturdy tree. When you reached the top of said tree, there was a "room." The branches had all been cut at a certain level, and we could sit on branches, completely surrounded by leaves drooping down from above us. We were almost invisible, and the best part was, it was our place. It was our own turf, our secret relief when we wanted to be away from adults with each other. In fact, we so valued our time with each other, we would often sneak away and climb up together just to spend time and share secrets. We grew our relationships dramatically as we snuck away, just desiring to spend time. 

     Have you ever thought that God want's to do that with you? How often do we see Jesus in the New Testament, Jesus, who is God himself incarnate, sneak away to be with His Father? God desires our time. Jesus told a parable, and its something God's been trying to teach me recently. It goes like this: 

Matthew 6:5-6 (NIV)

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, 

for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 

But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

     God want's to meet us in secret. If you pray throughout the day, continuously, good for you! But if you're using that as an excuse to not get alone with God in a secret place where you have no distractions, then you're wrong. Jesus Himself, who is our standard and example, and who was always praying to His Father, and who is perfect in every way, slipped away to be with God. How much more then, if Jesus so desperately needed time alone with God, do we need to do this? Exponentially more so! Because, unlike the perfect son of God who was also human, we sin! 

     I encourage you, if you haven't found a place of refuge, that you find one. We all need God, we all need time with the creator who loves us more than we could ever know.

You're Speaking My Language

Hey guys! Just a quick little thought for y'all.
     Many of you have taken the quiz, or simply know of, the five "love languages." For those of you that don't know, these 'languages' are

1. Quality Time 
2. Physical Touch 
3. Receiving Gifts 
4. Words of Affirmation 
5. Acts of Service

These can be very crucial to any relationship, whether it be a wild and crazy friendship, a confusing and ambiguous love, or even your kids who "drive you to drink" (milk of course). I took this quiz on the 5 Love Languages and I'm ALL of them except for "acts of service." Well, future husband, you almost can't screw up.

     Anywho, I now am beginning to notice these in other people, for example: I recently got a new room, and with this room, came a new desk! (YAY!!!! I CAN WRITE THINGS AND STUFF!) I have been using a delicate straw and wood, old chair to sit at the desk, but I honestly haven't minded too much.

    I came home to find it had been replaced by a slightly torn, plush, black, rolling one! Now i could spin countless circles for entertainment! What a life! I was in a bad mood that day, but I was happy to see the chair, so I sat down. Then the chair and I had problems. It was squeaky, not that this alone would have been a problem, but I was already having a bad day, and I am a bouncer in my chairs, so there seemed to be a constant whine in the room when I wasn't making a conscious effort to not rock back and forth. Next, I love to sit with my knees pulled up to my chest, and my feet were too long for the darn chair! They kept sliding off and bleh! When I finally accepted the fact that I would never be able to sit like that, I began working on homework.
     Then my mom knocked on my door. It was locked, and in my weakened state it felt like an eternity (or 2 seconds) to interrupt my train of thought (which was more like a strand of wagons chasing bunnies at this point) to go to the door, but I obliged. I have to say, I did not greet my mother in the best way. I was tired and felt like I'd been beaten with hard pillows.
     Then she asked me if I liked the chair... (You just thought I was telling a random story but NO! It really does tie in!) Now I answered with probably the last thing she wanted to hear "It makes a lot of noise."
     I didn't think much about it, and I said an unenthusiastic thank you afterwards—and that wasn't okay. No matter how tired I was, she had made an effort, and I wasn't appreciative.
     How often do we do this with God? Have you ever wondered about how God, who we can't see or touch, might show his love? Recently when I was going through this horrid day, I texted my best friend to ask if she wanted to meet for coffee, and it was the most amazing thing. She told me just before we met God placed me on her heart to pray for. Just before we met, I had been having one of the worst days of the year (the chair thing above was included in it). What does that say about God's love? I want to challenge you guys today to try and look for God's gifts to you throughout the day. If every good and perfect gift comes from above, then that hug from the right person at the right time is from Him. The light breeze after the worst workout of your life is from Him. The fact that you're breathing is a gift, your friends encouraging words are from Him! On that terrible, no-good, very bad day, it was great knowing God was thinking of me and paying attention to my pain no matter how transitory it may be. And Jesus is constantly praying for us before the Father. He's our intercessor, so even when you don't think God has done anything for you that day, he's still praying, you're still alive, to God be the glory!

     And....if you were wondering how my story ended...my mom took away my chair, and I was sad :( It's back to old yellow straw now, not that i mind too much, but I guess I learned that love languages are something we need to think about more often, especially, if we want to keep our chairs.

High School Retreat

This past week my school took our annual High School Retreat, and, for the first and last time, I enjoyed myself the ENTIRE trip! I used to have this habit of entering the week with a dread that sunk into my bones, because as much fun as I knew I would have, I hate athletics! My muscles still haven't seen a gym in YEARS! Lucky for me, my body is naturally athletic and by some weird turn has retained a few muscles—mostly those random ones used for sprinting; however, only about 3 of these 8 games are sprinting, while the rest are hand-eye coordination and brute strength. It is a MIRACLE every year they don't send someone to the hospital.

   There's a particular game called "The Sphere of Destruction" that always leaves several trampled on the ground. This game has been taken away by administration several times because of the injuries left in the pitiless sphere's wake, but for some odd reason, the injuring tradition is inevitably reinstated. This game involves the largest inflatable ball you've ever seen stretching up a mile high (or 8' but who's keeping track? 0_o), and the sheer strength of the opposing teams. The goal is to push the ball (on the ground mind you) through one of your teams 2 goals. If the ball goes in the air, you need to let it touch down again before you resume smashing your body into it like the football players under some kind of heartless coach. It's usually about 7 on 7 and I have never seen such competition as when we unleash the boys of each team against each other! It's as if all their years teenage angst have led up to this moment of redemption! Ridiculous!
     This year, one of my co-captains, a broad shouldered, muscled 18yr old, was pushing right along side me when I looked up and....he was GONE! I continued throwing myself against the ball, and as it rolled through the goal, I found my co-captain. He had fallen beneath the ball and was on his back kicking the ball with his feet and punching with his hands....we got the point!!
     I hated these games because I always felt this dread of injury (I've had surgery, been there/done that, NEVER going back) and my inability to measure up to my inevitably athletic team. This year however, I felt God challenged me to throw open my arms and embrace this last retreat, because this year I would be leading, and heaven knows where the underclassmen might end up with zero direction. It was my own personal "Sphere of Destruction," and I could enjoy it and roll with the bloody noses, or grow ulcers over it, then die.

     As a senior this year, I'm bidding adieu to this beloved, ultra-competative, bruising, all-around fun, set-aside time we have with God as highschoolers, and this year I met with God in a beautiful way.

     God really hit me hard this year with the power of the cross. God is God, and He could've found another way to redeem mankind. I mean, seriously! He is all-powerful, but Jesus looked at us and He so loved us that He payed the HIGHEST price he possibly could for us! He died and endured all of God's hatred and anger towards sin so that not one drop of the torrent reached us. God allowed His terrible righteous anger to pour over His son! Jesus met all of God's fury, and all of His wrath, as if Jesus had been the liar, the cheater, the murderer. It was as if Jesus Himself, the only perfect human, had told that white lie to his parents, or slaughtered millions of Jews in the holocaust. Of course He did none of this, but legally, as in a court, He was declared guilty for all these charges so that we may live. God CRUSHED His son, in a way we will NEVER understand. How hurt then must he feel when we choose something else over him? How much would that hurt? This is completely imperfect illustration but I highly recommend reading this>> The Room

Adios blogging world!
                                  ~Kylie