Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Bring It, Donny!!





Ok....here is the long awaited beginning of a string of several staff-retreat related blogs, as promised (AO...I can't promise any more Hebrew. I think I've exhausted it with "Shalom").

Last Saturday we boarded two big yellow school buses and headed North to Oregon for staff retreat. As you just learned in my lengthy and slightly neurotic post...I don't like fast moving vehicles or situations that I can't get out of easily. So when I learned that the first event of staff retreat was jet boating....I was NOT all about it to say the least. When we arrived at "Hellsgate Jet Boat Tours" I sort of wanted to bolt. I like boats...I went on a cruise last spring for goodness sake. However, I had this image in my mind of those speed boats that zoom across the water and barely make any contact with the surface whatsoever. Basically, I felt my death was eminent. So when Jonathan LeDuc, our fearless leader said he needed some volunteers to go on standby, my hand shot up. Then I was faced with another option. Bail entirely and go eat dinner with a small group of 8 in nearby Ashland, or stay on standby. After getting the "you're a wuss....they let people take babies on these things and there are no seatbelts" speech from several people, I started to think that maybe I should have just sucked it up and gone and actually started hoping that there would be space for me.

About 15 minutes later I found myself being herded onto a long metal boat...careful to be in the back row, in the middle. I concentrated on breathing regularly, humbled by the LeDuc's three year old who was hanging tight a row in front of me. I begged our driver, Donny, to "take it easy." I recieved no promise that he would even entertain this thought.

The first part of the ride was amazing. We rode through Hellsgate canyon at about 45 mph (which felt like about 100 mph) which is stunningly beautiful. Periodically Donny would do a 360 degree turn to make the entire boat spin around so that we all got wet. It was amazing. After about an hour and 15 minute ride, we pulled up at a beautiful lodge looking building on the cliff where we ate an amazing dinner. My table turned into an demi "accountability-group" meeting of sweet sisters in Christ talking about what the Lord has done in their lives. It was so edifying in the Spirit and encouraging.

On the ride back, Jamie Herndon (pictured with me) and I decided that we would be "team Awesome" and ride in the second row of the boat. I took everything that Donny threw at us in stride and even stood up at one point and yelled, "bring it Donny!" to which he responded (via microphone) "weren't you the scaredy girl that was sitting in the back row before?" I loved it...Jamie and I screamed and ducked whenever a tidal wave was headed our direction. By the end of the ride we were soaked and happy...and I couldn't help thinking, "I almost missed out on this." Somewhere along the ride I turned to Ronnie who was next to me and whispered a thanks for providing the opportunity to come to the Ranch and for being firm with me when I was waffling in whether or not I was supposed to come. He looked at me and said, "thanks for taking risks." Wow. Risks. And I say I'm not a risk taker....My thoughts returned to the thoughts of security that had been tumbling in my head for the past week or so (if you read my previous blog entry...you're tracking with me) and I wondered how many opportunities I had almost missed out of fear. Riding in that jet boat next to two of my friends screaming like banshees was one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done. My high school Sunday School teacher Forest Allgood told a story once about how he felt prompted by the spirit to share Christ with a particular man for years but never did. The one day he summoned the courage, the man wasn't there...and never returned to his office building. He encouraged us as high schoolers to "not miss the blessing." I've quoted this story many times, but it came back to mind on the boat ride....the ride I almost missed by being on stand by. By being too uncertain to come to the Ranch. By being hesitant to move to Nashville. By feeling silly going to meet Travis Crim who introduced me to Ronnie. By not wanting to go on the retreat where I met Travis. I could continue chasing this chain backwards and backwards (like the movie Sliding Doors...all the what if's...and if I hadn't been there's) but the point is that:

Security is found in God. Within His Will there is safety and no fear. (The Scripture teaches that perfect love drives out all fear, and certainly He loves us with a perfect Love!) Get off the stand-by list and get in the boat. Sit in the front row. Raise your arms and scream. Prepare to be drenched by the water from all around. Bring it, Donny!

security blanket

Besides pounding into my heart over and over that “He loves me, oh how He loves me,” the Lord has been driving the point home this summer that He, and He alone is my security. I am definitely a “wade in the water” type of girl. I like to stick my toe in to see what the temperature is, then I’ll stick my feet in, then I get in up to my thighs. Then, if I’m feeling pretty good with the situation, I’ll dive my whole body under the water. Its not that I’m not adventuresome, on the contrary…I love a good adventure and when I think back over choices I’ve made, things I’ve done and life stories the Lord has written for me, I am almost astounded at how “out there” some of them are and in a few cases I have to catch my breath in disbelief that I actually experienced these things that I call “my story.” I, Bethany Daniel, (in no particular chronological order) have gone to England, to Scotland, to Costa Rica, to Panama, to Peru. Have ridden a camel. Have held a boa constrictor. Have jumped off a cliff. Have wakeboarded. Have flown to San Antonio, Texas on a plane ticket bought by a person I’d only met once to play with an artist who didn’t even know I was coming (this is how I met Ronnie Freeman…I’ll have to blog that entire story some other time). Have gone camping. Have quit my “good job in the city,” moved 7.5 hours away, to try my hand in the music business. Have ziplined through the rainforest. I’m no shrinking violet, but I’m also not a fan of situations where I feel out of control, where things are moving to fast (literally or figuratively speaking). I have a strong dislike of roller coasters and other thrill rides. I get scared riding 4 wheelers on gravel roads. I absolutely hate free-falling, be it 2 feet or 200.

I guess really, I’m a control freak. If I go somewhere with friends, I like to drive so that I know I can leave if I want to. I just like driving period because I don’t really trust anyone else’s driving. While I actually really enjoy flying in a plane, I hate that out of control feeling that occurs whilst hurtling down the runway for takeoff. I much prefer the actual flying and landing. I like my personal space…be it my own bedroom, my car, my seat; whatever that might look like. I like knowing the schedule (or better yet, making the schedule!), being the one to call the shots, etc. etc. I think I also look for “security blankets” be it a person I know in a crowd of strangers, a role to fill (for instance I’m fine walking into a gig where I don’t know anyone because I’m secure in that I’m “the violinist” …I find security in knowing the task that I’m there to do.), or a place (I don’t mind traveling all over the country because I know that there is an apartment in my name in Nashville, Tennessee for me to go home to.) (Wow…I’m sounding a bit neurotic. Sorry!)

This summer God has asked me to let go of all that makes me feel secure. I don't have cell phone service. I don't have a vehicle. I didn't have an abundance of people I knew...and those I did were not exactly at my disposal to hang out with. My role as a violinist was combined with my role on housekeeping staff, making it unfamiliar. I certainly don't have any personal space. For the first week and a half I didn't even have a bed to call my own. All I had was the Lord. And He has impressed on me that He is all I need. Relationships with people without a relationship with the Lord first, are empty. Without the Lord, the ability to travel somewhere turns into a twisted and tangled trail. Playing the violin is merely a role He allows me to fill, but my IDENTITY is in Him alone. Personal space is merely of this world...but I am in Him no matter where I am, or if there is space for me there. My place is not in or of this world anyway....there is a place prepared for me in Heaven. That is my only true "personal space."

At the ranch we have "intercessors" who come and stay for a week or longer whose sole purpose is to pray for the staff. One intercessor couple prayed over me the other day and the husband asked if I'd be willing to leave Nashville if the Lord called me to. I responded that the Lord had led me to Nashville and wasn't calling me to leave at the moment. He laughed and said that I hadn't answered his question at all. The question was not IF the Lord was calling me to leave Nashville...it was would I be WILLING if the Lord DID. I had to think long and hard about this and concluded that I was not willing. That I take so much security in where I live and having a plan to return there. My thoughts turn to Job who had everything stripped of Him...serious things like family...and yet his security remained in His relationship with the Lord. He identity was that of being the Lord's. Period.

Ronnie and I had a discussion the other day about a desire of my heart...but I expressed to Him that I desired to follow the Lord's will and the plan that He had for me, not one that I would manipulate of myself and Ronnie suggested that I "do this" with it. He stretched his arms out in front of Him and cupped his hands together, palms upward. (My thought was of a little kid showing his mom a frog he'd caught.) He said that he would stand in agreement with me before the Lord (pray prayers of intercession) but not for a particular outcome on the topic...just that I would continue to hold it out to God and say, "Here...you take this. Hold it for me. Keep it safe. I'll be here next to You following along in what I am to do with it." I loved that response from Ronnie. I've adopted this particular physical posture when I pray over decisions now. It's the only way that I can remember that I don't get to hold on to things. I hold onto God..and He holds onto my stuff. God is my security blanket.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

The Oregon Trail.....

Just got back from an amazing weekend of camping and jet boating in Oregon. Much adventure was lived out and much thinking was accomplished therefore much bloggage will be completed when I have a moment to sit down and write. Headed to town at the moment with the housekeeping staff for dinner....but wanted to let you all know why I had been so silent. Be on your guard...I'm liable to throw up several posts in the next day or two. Hope all is well in your respective worlds. Shalom.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

hockey and music

I once read that you can't fully appreciate something until you meet someone who is passionate about it. I find this to be a curious truth. I came across the following quote today and although I don't have a particular intrest in hockey, I could identify my insatiable thirst for music with his love of the game.

"They say that Wayne Gretzky, as a 2-year-old, would cry when the Saturday night hockey game on TV was over, becasue it seemed to him at that age unbearably sad that something he loved so much had to come to end, and I've always thought that was the simplest explanation for why Gretzky was Gretzky."

At two and a half when I gave my first recital, I cried when I was told to leave the stage and put my violin away after rehersing for my first recital. The only way they could make me get off the stage, was to tell me that I had to get down, before I could get back on to play again. To my toddler brain, this logic seemed reasonable.

Nashville Symphony conductor Kenneth Schermerhorn once said "Even before I knew what a musician was I knew that's what I wanted to be." Me too, Maestro...me too.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

fire on the mountain....run, boy, run




Figured I'd give you folks some updates on two interrelated topics of concern at the ranch...fires and mountain lions.

The California wildfires continue to burn and the staff continues to pray that the Lord will send rain upon this place. While we aren't in any real danger of the fires, we have been impacted greatly by the smoke. It makes everyone have sort throats and is causing lots of sinus problems, as well as impacting some of our hiking activities and what not. Please join with our staff as we ask the Lord to bring rain to this dry clime and put out the fires.

Because of this, we are seeing lots more deer and wildlife than usual as these animals are being displaced by the fires. Most notably, a family of mountain lions has taken up apparent residence about ten yards north of the Green Bean. Last friday night, two staff girls spotted them (two adult lions, 4 babies) as they walked home and then last night, Matt, one of the boy staffers was out for his nightly run at dusk when he heard something stir beside him and looked over to see one of the adult mountain lions a few feet to his left. He ran to the Green Bean (which caused a bit of a stir) and called the front desk to alert everyone. Again, I don't think there is any real danger....we now have men in golf carts driving us home at night to the Bean and no one is allowed to wander by themselves at night...but it was sort of exciting to have "mountain lion survival training" at lunch today.

The pictures above are of the California wildfires from 25,000 feet. Photo credits: Scott Booth...as he flew his fighter jet over California on his Transpac journey from North Carolina to Japan.

Monday, July 21, 2008

TheirSpaces

In effort to support the indie music community (of which I am a part) I've added a list of My Space sites of folk I consider to be quality musicians. check em out. maybe even purchase their music. give some love to starving artists. i'll be updating the list when i see fit...but it will always hover there on the right side of the page for your listening pleasure.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

My Granola Weekend: further jammage in Scott Valley



So as fate (or God) would have it, it just so happened that Sandra and Don who own the drugstore also organized the Bluegrass festival which I was dying to attend. I apparently had established a much larger reputation in Etna, California the night before than I'd realized because when I walked in the door, Don proclaimed, "the Fiddle is here!" (And when Sandra caught me washing dishes she cried..."we're letting 'fiddle fingers' wash dishes!") After we finished the ice cream extravaganza, they were adamant about getting to hear me fiddle again. As David didn't have a guitar this time around, we improvised by putting different rolls on their old upright player piano and I fiddled along to "Tennessee Waltz" and sang along with "The Lullabye of Broadway." Satisfied with my entertainment, Don gave David and I free day passes to the festival that was in full swing (in full two-step?) about 6 blocks over at the local park.

We wondered that way and enjoyed the good (cheap) food, quality tunes, various homemade wares (I bought a beanie hat made out of alpaca wool) and just the good feeling of sitting on the ground relaxing and watching the locals dance about. We hung out for a few hours and caught some really great bands and then headed back to the ranch for dinner. Not to miss any moment of music however, I rounded up another crew of folk and headed back post dinner to catch a few more bands and of course...to jam.

I'd met a few folk the night before that were excited about jamming with me again so as the last band left the stage we headed to the campground next door where they had set up a tent lit with lanterns. 12 of us crammed beneath it...a myriad of accoustic instruments and Mark the dobro player nodded at me and said, "alright fiddle...what'll it be?" Unable to convince them that I really DON'T know any old bluegrass standards, I finally taught them "Cuckoo's Nest" (the one tune I know) and from there my education began as we played a host of old time standards I'd never heard (I spent a small fortune on iTunes when I got home downloading recordings of everything we'd played so I can listen and learn and not embarrass myself next time) although everyone seemed to feel that I'd hung in pretty well. I loved the atmosphere....the pitch black night with the blood red moon, the ragged assortment of unshowered hippie musicians playing their weathered assortment of axes (several guys had headlamps on their heads!)...the tent with the lanterns hung from every corner for light....how we went around the circle, each one in turn choosing a tune and kicking off the solo, and then the hook getting passed around the circle so everyone had a chance to show off their chops. It made my heart sing. I could have stayed all night. At about 11:45 my fellow staffers decided they'd had enough for a night so I wrapped it up with a lively version of Devil's Dream and headed back to the ranch exhausted and happy.

Yes folks...I had to leave the hills of Tennessee for the mountains of California for a bluegrass education...but the genre is alive and well. Music is truly a language...one I'm glad I speak.

(If you would like to incorporate the Scott Valley Bluegrass Festival into your summer plans next year, A) here's the website B) be sure not to go without inviting me! :) http://www.scottvalleybluegrass.com/ )

My Granola Weekend: cliff jumping and free ice cream




Saturday I had the entire day off. I'm splitting this day into two installments of "My Granola Weekend." So part one opens with loading up a camp van with about 60 sack lunches and coolers and heading about 45 minutes north east of the ranch followed by a school bus of church group kiddies to a place called Shackelford Falls. It is absolutely amazing! We ate sack lunches on the various rocks in the river and then the cliff jumping began.

No (Mom..I know you are reading this and freaking out....) this was not impromptu cliff jumping....this was planned. It was the entire point of going to Shack. There is a "natural water slide," a "low rock" (just over 10 feet up) and a "high rock" (about 20 feet up) above a basin about 20 feet deep of freezing cold mountain water. You climb up a rock face and then jump off the top into the frigid waters beneath and then swim against the current either to the person holding the big metal hook on a rod to pull you out, or pull yourself out with every ounce of upper body strength you have. I'm not really a huge fan of being cold...ever...and certainly not cold and wet, so this wasn't really my thing. However, I'm also not one to pass up a good opportunity and I do like a bit of adventure, so I climbed to the top rock with the best of them and got out on the edge...and froze up. We're talking knees locked, heart pounding, chest tight. I also climbed down like a champ....but not the whole way. When I reached the "low rock" I took the plunge and am proud to say that I pulled myself out without the assistance of the strong man and his metal hook. And that was all I really felt I needed to accomplish for the day in the danger category. :)

After the falls we headed to Etna to the old time drug store for ice cream. I changed from my cold wet bathing suit into my "flowy hippie pants" (love me some sale racks at Anthropologie) and a dry top and headed in the store. Now I've always heard jokes about washing dishes to pay for one's supper...but have never actually experienced this....until Saturday. The drug store owner cheerfully tossed me a dishrag and said if I washed dishes my ice cream would be free. David and I hopped behind the old timey soda counter and he collected money while I scrubbed away. (By old-timey I mean old timey. If you order a soda they pour syrup into a cup and then add seltzer water from a special metal tap on the marble counter.) At the end of the process I got a cone of chocolate chip cookie dough and a hand made coke. Mmmm. Delish.

The photos above are of Shackldford Falls, Me with a newly washed blender and Ms. Sandra and her orange sherbet exravaganza and of me looking disgusted at something that refused to come clean while Sandra and Don chat in the background. (More on Sandra and Don in the post to follow)

My Granola Weekend: pickin' on Main




Friday night I had the night off which excited me greatly, so I decided to rally the troops and head into the booming metropolis of Etna for dinner at the "Trail House." Thomas Blackmon, David Dailey and Jamie Myers and I loaded up in Thomas' car and had a fabulous dinner of "tri tips" (which was really quad tips...these little mini steak things) with much random entertaining chatter...you know...those good deep belly laughs that just make you feel healthy. Anyway. After our meal was finished we wandered out into the dusty streets of Etna, California and into the midst of an impromptu bluegrass pickin' party. Seems that the "Scott Valley Bluegrass Festival" was Saturday and Sunday and pickers and strummers from near and far were kicking the festival off by jamming in the street. The one Etna police man had blocked off main street (all two blocks of it) with hay bales and the entire town was either playing something or dancing about to the strains of banjos, guitars, double bass and mandolins.

I of course, was taken with this entire idea and plopped down on the sidewalk to listen in. We hung out for a few minutes and then had to get Jamie back to camp to work snack bar so I reluctantly was torn away and rode back to camp. We had no sooner unloaded at the Ranch when Thomas pulled me aside and asked if I'd like to go back to the bluegrass jam with my violin and see what I could get into. (Thomas gets the friend of the year award for this). So we piled back in the car, picking up my fiddle, Trenton's guitar for David to jam on, Trenton himself, Jordan Mahy, and a few other folks, and made the 15 minute drive back to Main street Etna.

The next two or so hours were pure bliss for me. I floated from group to group picking up what I could learn, engrossed in the melodies of a host of bluegrass standards. The folk there were true pieces of "Americana" if you will. It was such an awesome evening of relaxation, good music, good friends, and authenticity. Everyone was happy to be there and genuinely happy to meet new folk and to exchange ideas and tunes. When I was finally dragged away, I felt that my inner musician was more than satisfied....if only I'd known what the next day would bring.

The pictures above are of me (fiddle) and David Dailey (guitar) jamming on the street. There is also one picture of some of the folk jamming without us.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

My Granola Weekend: the grand introduction



Welcome to numero uno of a multi-part blog series. Granola, you ask? Let me explain. You know the type of folk that only eat organic foods, that grown their own vegetables, that make their own clothes...or better yet that sheer their own sheep to make yarn and thread to make cloth to make their own clothes. Who don't always bathe. Who travel in large vans that barely run with stickers proclaiming various political views from decades past. Who don't always feel the need to wear appropriate under garments. Who don't wear make-up. This isn't really the type of life I lead.....although I do love shopping at Whole Foods, I did grow tomatoes and the like in a garden with my mom when I was a kid, I have been known to make my own clothing (and even won first prize at the county fair in high-school for a dress that I made), I haven't had a shower since before I swam in the river yesterday (but hey...I'm at camp), I do drive an SUV which is sort of like a little van, but my bumper stickers advertise various Christian ministries...but I do wear underwear and makeup (well, makeup some of the time). OK....so maybe I'm pseudo granola. It's times like this weekend, or really the entire time I've been at camp, that I get to enjoy little "Granola vacations" if you will. Where I can run around with no makeup and no one cares. I loved feeling like a hippie this weekend. Hope you enjoy my tales. Hope you don't think I'm nuts for this post. (Jess...I know you're tracking with me. haha. love you!)

p.s. the pictures are of this cool old car I found in Etna. I think the small dog inside it had some sort of mange and seemed a tad snarly. I assumed that this car and dog were a permanent fixture in the town, however, to my surprise, at the end of the night, a man walked up, jumped in the car, cranked it and drove off!

Friday, July 18, 2008

made for His Glory.....


As music is central to my life, it makes perfect sense that the biggest decision I have ever made was both inspired by and made during listening to a song. In January of 2005 at a little tiny campground in the backwoods of Mississippi, I heard a song played on a CD during a "ministry" time where students were allowed to come forward for prayer. The song was called "For Your Glory," the CD was called "Worship from the Big Top," and the artist was a man named Ronnie Freeman. At this point in life I had heard of neither the song, the album, or the man singing, but was moved by the lyric that proclaimed:

"For Your Glory I was made, to bring you honor, to bring you praise,
for Your Glory, you have saved my soul, and You called me Your own...
for Your Glory."

So moved in fact....that I moved all the way down the aisle to talk to a woman in my church and ask her to pray over me as I surrendered my heart to a full-time music career. At the time of course, I had no idea what that would end up looking like, nor could I have dreamed that a year and a half later I would move to Nashville, Tennessee to play for the very singer I was listening to that very minute...or that I would spend a month and a half at a place called JH Ranch worshipping in the very "Big Top" that that CD was named after, I just knew that in that moment I was blown away by the concept that Christ could possibly receive any glory from my existence on this earth. I think that because I am so in awe of God's big-ness, I find it difficult to compute in my brain that I am important to Him. Not only does He receive glory however, that was the entire point in making me! He made me to honor Him, praise Him and bring Him glory!

This is the point in this blog where I could very easily slip onto some theological rabbit trail about "predestination" and the "elect" and to what extent we choose Christ and how much He just picks and chooses who He will bring to live with Him in eternity, but there would be little point in that. All I know is that I believe and am confident that He not only created me, but He did it with purpose and with pleasure. That He made me the person I am, with the gift that I poses so that I could in turn give it back to Him in praise and worship. That He calls me His own and that He has redeemed my soul and made it precious and beautiful.

Tonight a sweet new friend slipped me a note after worship encouraging me that my violin playing and attitude of worship on stage this summer was impacting those around me. While I was certainly encouraged by her words, I was also almost terrified to think that what I did had an effect on others. It is an awesome responsibility to be in a position where people are watching you because you then have the power to essentially improve them, or harm them in some fashion. It was sobering to realize that the only way people were being positively impacted by my gifts and strengths and not negatively impacted by my sins and weaknesses was because the Lord was allowing them to see me when my heart posture was in a state of total dependence on Him. What would I be without Him? Without His guidance, control and direction....not to mention his grace and mercy that He not only "saved a wretch like me" but is using me to further His kingdom despite my junk and sins. I was mulling over all this still as I stepped back onstage to lead during "ministry time" when Ronnie looked at me and launched into the very "For Your Glory" tune that captured my heart and attention some 3 and a 1/2 years ago and I completely lost it....amazed again that He had called me, chosen me, saved me, uses me and even delights in me! That He created me so that He could take pleasure in my music and in my being. That He thought it was good that I should be given life. Powerful.

I apologize to my readers if this post seems redundant as I know that I have had several as of late focused on how amazed I am that God loves me and how I'm falling head over heels for Him...but the truth of the matter is that I'm confronted with His boundless and uncomprehensible love every day it seems. And because understanding, or rather accepting (since I don't believe one can ever understand), the love of God is absolutely central to our existence. If you accept nothing else in life, accept His love. It is truly the only thing of any importance.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

room with a view...

so the big new in life at the moment is....dum da dum da dum.....

I have a new living arrangement!

I'm still in the Bean, but I've been moved to a much smaller room that I share with 3 girls versus the other room that I shared with 10 or so. Jill and Ginny live in the bunk bed next to me and Ginger Anne has the pleasure of sleeping on the bunk below me. While I've really grown to love all the girls in the Bean (and even the Bean itself in some twisted sort of way) living in this new room with these girls is amazing. I sleep better at night, I get a cubby PLUS a 1/4 of a real closet, we have a window, and a door we can close if we want to go to sleep. Aaaahhh....the lap of luxury. Ha ha. I'll be living in this room until the end of my stay at the ranch, and I feel so blessed to get to share life with these 3 sweet girls. Its allowed me to be alot more relaxed and to get alot more sleep which makes me more at peace throughout the day.

I'll have to post a roommate pic if we are ever in the same place at the same time to take one. :)

"Deer" friends



Just thought I'd post these pics of me and Mary-Hall (and her lawn ornaments gifted by the previous home owner) from my recent trip to Denver. Love it.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

MORE pictures

so for some reason my computer, or internet connection, or blog, or some combination thereof was on the fritz yesterday and wouldn't let me post pictures. however...that seems to all be straight now, so I went back and edited several of my posts and added pics. check them out all over again. :) blessings.

AND....I've done it again. more photos added to old posts. Go look. Again. :)

Rodeo



So every camp here at JH starts off with a "Rodeo" which is this hilarious skit/game time. I can't really describe it. Anyway. A friend snapped these two pictures at last week's rodeo that make me happy. One because it's awesome, and one because it's, well, awesome....but on a whole different level. :) Enjoy.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

A “Rock-ie” flight turned Vacation (Bible School, that is…)



so the continuation from below is......

..............at which point I saw the silver lining in the thunderclouds hovering over Baltimore and by the time we re-boarded the plane and took off 2 hours later I’d called my dear friend Mary-Hall in Denver where my connecting flight to Medford had already departed and made arrangements to crash with her if need be.

The flight to Denver was for certain one of two of the scariest flights I’ve ever been on...period. When I hit the ground in Denver (and by “hit”…that’s exactly what I mean) and called MH, she was already waiting at the airport for me. I spoke with the gate agent who suggested that I re-book on the same direct flight from Denver to Medford on Monday afternoon that I had missed on Sunday afternoon as that flight was the only one that hadn’t been having problems getting in on time (the smoke in California is really causing flight problems), took her advice, re-booked, and headed off to spend the night with my sweet MH and her husband (and let’s not forget Abby the dog) in their brand new house about 45 minutes from the Denver aero Puerto. We cruised home chatting 90 to nothing to the musical strains of our favorite CD (which I cannot identify to keep the reputations of both of our musical tastes intact) so thrilled to catch up on the past year of so that I haven’t seen her. Sweet August had dinner ready for us when we got there and after a bit more gabbing I crawled into bed with the windows open and the night sounds and temperate clime of Colorado drifting through the screen over me.

Monday morning we got up early (sweet girl washed and folded the clothes I’d been wearing for me since my suitcase was not locatable the night before at the airport) and went to her church where she was the director of their Vacation Bible School. I mostly stayed out of the way (well, I did decorate a cardboard box…but…) while MH scurried about making sure everything went according to plan and thinking on her feet when no plan existed. I was thrilled to discover that there was a youth group there on mission trip helping out from Bolivar, Missouri where I was a few weeks ago playing at T.H.E.E. Camp (although disappointed to discover that none of the kids had been T.H.E.E. Campers, still….what are the odds?). After a lunch of Mexican food, a trip to the tailor to pick up a dress, a few minutes browsing an antique store (a favorite pastime of ours) and a bit of internet surfing at her house, it was time to head back to the airport to catch my flight to Medford….which is where I am as I write this…comfortably seated in an exit row seat (I have the entire row to myself) listening to Josh Radin, typing and glancing out the window at the clouds and mountains dropping away below me.

It’s been an amazing past four days of relaxing and friends….but I’m anxiously awaiting my arrival back at the Ranch. I believe that the Lord ordained this trip (And even the delay) for a certain purpose of vital spiritual importance, but to personal to publish on a blog to which the world has access, but I’m thrilled to be going back to JH….it’s time…I’m longing to continue the growth I began there and rest a bit more (even if that rest occurs on my knees scrubbing). On my solo the Lord gave me verses that begged Him to “teach me Your paths” and I am confident that I have walked His path this weekend...even though it seemed to lead a twisted unplanned direction. I think there was a big fat, wooden cross nailed to the side of the Denver airport for me asking me to pause there and fulfill the purpose He had for me that began in Bethany Beach, Delaware, and ended in the hall of a tiny church in East Boulder, Colorado.

I feel rejuvenated, restored, and ready to discover the rest of His purpose for me. I feel strong and confident like Lucy when Aslan breathed his great breath on her.

Post Script:
My body is pretty sure it has no idea what time zone, or state for that matter, it's in. I've given up trying to help it sort it all out. I think I’m just going to start sleeping when I’m tired and doing stuff when I feel awake and being where I am.

What did Dela wear boys? What did Delaware.......




The thing about life on the road is that gigs don't always come in close proximity to one another. For example, I've been in Northern California for about 2 weeks now and will remain there for another month, but this past weekend I had a gig....in Delaware with Beth Cayhall. So last Friday morning, sweet Leslie Freeman packed up all three kiddies at 7:30 in the morning and drove me on the 1 hour and 45 minute trip from Etna to the closest airport, which happens to be Medford, Oregon. From there I flew to San Francisco, California, and caught my connecting flight to Baltimore, Maryland where Brian Oaks and Seth Marcum picked me up at the airport (wearing 3D glasses at night and driving a sweet Volvo rental station wagon, I might add.....) and we drove the three hours to Bethany Beach, Delaware where our gig actually was. Upon arrival at the townhouse (on the beach) I had been awake for 23.5 hours. Exhausted, I crashed in my (queen-size) bed and didn't even think about waking up until 11:30 the next day.

The next day was absolutely amazing. The band ate at this stellar joint on the beach (Bethany Beach is the cutest little shore town ever. I plan on vacationing there often!) called Mango's and then Seth and I went and swam in the ocean for about an hour. I don't think I've really done that since I was a little kid and used to visit my grandparents down the Jersey Shore and it was simply food for my soul. The undertow was strong and the waves were brutal so by the time we body surfed our last wave and got washed up on the shore we were exhausted...but felt like little kids....which was so worth it. :)

That night we played two awesome shows with Beth for her hometown crowd....one at the Bethany Beach Bandstand for about 1,100 people and one at the Milford, Delaware Volunteer Fire Fighter's Association Fire Station....for a smaller (but much rowdier) crowd. We jammed out. People danced. I rode a mechanical bull. Yes. You read that correctly (and by the way I was pretty much awesome at it!) Sunday morning we made the trek back to Baltimore (somehow it took 4 hours this time….who knows.) where the majority of the band had to hoof it to catch their flights back to Nashville. Seth and I grabbed a quick lunch in the terminal and parted ways. He caught his flight to his next gig in Charlotte….and I sat in the Baltimore airport. And sat. And sat. And boarded the plane. And found out that all three DC area airports had been shut down (for incoming AND outgoing flights) due to weather. And then our entire plane un-boarded. And sat………

Seeing as this is the end of the Delaware portion of my weekend and the beginning of the Denver one….I’ll be posting the conclusion in a separate entry…

To be continued…….

P.S. The answer to the riddle is, "She wore her brand New Jersey." [And, if you were wondering what did Tenne see? She saw what Arkan saw." You know I've always loved the cheesy jokes (Win Graham, Matt Minor...here's some more ammo for you)]

Monday, July 14, 2008

criss-crossing the country

I've actually gotten to talk to a few of you over the past 96 hours which has been amazing. It's felt like a year since last friday when i got in the mini van to drive to medford, oregon to board a plane to fly to san fransisco, california, to fly to baltimore maryland, to drive to Bethany Beach, delaware......

I've now got to get to the Denver airport to catch a plane back to medford, to Etna to the ranch....and will update you in a nice newsy blog, the events of the past four days.....but i'll keep you on the edge of your seats till tomorrow. :) However, I'm safe...I'm happy...I'm amazed at the Lord. and soon...I'll be "back at the ranch."

blessings to you all....until tomorrow.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

correction

I misspelled the name of the artist who sang the version of "Amazing Grace" that blew me away. His correct name is "Wintley Phipps." Now.....go buy it on iTunes!

Solo…….Portion B






After leading worship with Ronnie and the praise team at the nightly worship service (we call it “Big Top” at the ranch) my solo time turned into a duet. My sweet friend Michelle who lives one bunk over and down from me, and I decided that we would continue our 24 hours with the Lord by hiking up the mountain and spending the night at the foot of the cross (remember that cross that I searched for and just couldn’t find last week?). While I understand the importance of solitude before the Lord, and why we had been instructed to go “solo” on this adventure, for me, spending alone time is easy, and for me to approach the Lord in community with another girl was actually going to be more of a challenge and opportunity for growth than being alone would have been. (Plus a heck of a lot safer. There are tales of folk encountering bears and mountain lions on overnight hikes in the area.)

We packed up our packs with extra layers of clothing and our tarps, camping pads and sleeping bags, food, refilled our water bottles and set off up the mountain behind the big top. For me this trek was so symbolic in so many ways. Last week when I went searching for this place of serenity and solitude, I wasn’t seeking Him out of love or a desire to find Him for Him, I was just unhappy, and was seeking something…anything…better than the situation I was in at the moment. I also wasn’t willing to listen to Him…I just ran headstrong in the direction I thought made the most sense. At least in my life, I’ve found that the Lord doesn’t always work in ways that make sense, but if when I’ve asked for direction…He has always provided it. In this case, I went straight in the direction of the cross because in my human wisdom, the way to get somewhere is to walk towards it. In this case, the path to the cross actually starts out by going the opposite direction and then snakes around and comes up the back of the mountain. However, those little white cross signs were there nailed to trees at every fork in the road. Never were we confused about which path to take, even though it didn’t seem to make sense. He allowed me to come to Him when my heart posture was submissive and actually seeking His face. When I followed His direction….in His timing…and in community with another believer, a sister in Christ.

We reached the summit after about a 30 minute hike up a steep and winding path; the time it took for the sun to leave it’s perch on the top of the mountain and sink behind it completely. When we were almost at the top, we turned around to rest and discovered that two of the guy staffers had had the same idea. We finished the climb as a quartet and set our packs down in front of two stone thrones at the top of the mountain, built for people to sit and contemplate Him. We prayed as a group and shared bits of each of our testimonies there before following the path around to the actual cross where we lingered a bit longer over apples and conversation and watched the lights flickering down on the ranch campus. We gathered our food and hung a “bear bag” (just in case they decided to pay us a visit during the night) and then the boys hiked back down the mountain a little to camp at a flat place we’d passed along the way and Michelle and I returned to set up our campsite at the peak at the foot of the thrones. I’ve never been camping before this experience and I’m so thankful that my first time was so memorable. There is nothing that can be compared to laying under a vast expanse of stars listening to the chirp of crickets and sharing stories about God’s Glory with a sister in Christ. Nor is there anything like being awakened at 5:30 in the morning as the sky gradually gets lighter and the birds begin to sing. Michelle and I got up and packed up our campsite and went back to the cross to watch the sunrise. As it was starting to peek over the trees, she handed me her iPod and told me to “listen to this.” What filled my ears was the booming velvet voice of Whitley Phips singing Amazing Grace (buy it on iTunes this very minute) and I stood sobbing at the foot of the cross watching the Son rise and bring new mercies for a new morning. His Grace is Amazing.


“There’s always gonna be another mountain
I’m always gonna want to make it move
It’s always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose
It’s not about how fast I get there
Or what’s waiting on the other side…..
It’s the climb”
-The Climb

Solo….portion A





The final portion of staff training here at the ranch is what they call a “solo.” It’s a 24 hour stint where you wander out into the woods by yourself, armed with sack lunch (aka Peanut Butter sandwiches and apples), a sleeping bag, a hiking pack, a tarp and a ground pad and whatever else you can cram into your pack and still be able to keep it on your back. The point is to have an entire 24 hour period to be silent and still before the Lord; sort of an extended-devotional time.

My solo began Wednesday at lunchtime and concluded Thursday at lunch. It ended up being a tad different than the “guidelines” set forth, but was possibly the most impactful time I’ve ever spent with the Lord. I set off on what we’ll call “solo portion A” with two Nalgene bottles of water (you can’t drink out of the creeks here or you can contract Montezuma’s Revenge…not the way I want to spend the remainder of my summer,) my sack lunch, the Bible, Piper’s “Desiring God,” the “Intentional Life of a Disciple” text that we are reading as a staff, a journal, bug spray, sunscreen, and my trusty Mac laptop (which is affectionately named “Sparky”) and headed about five minute south of the Bean to a creek that runs behind the Johnston’s house. I climbed down the rocky embankment, found a flat rock, and set up camp.

I started off by eating lunch and just enjoying being away from the hustle and bustle of camp, and rejoicing in the fact that I didn’t have to clean that morning. The sound of the creek was refreshing and calming and I enjoyed just sitting and being silent and by myself, and listening to everything around me. After a short while I decided to begin to read the Word. I’ve often heard people talk about how the “Lord gave them a scripture” and they “meditated on it all day” and have honestly had trouble understanding that for two reasons. A) I don’t always hear the Lord speaking to me, let alone have Him instant message me a scripture verse whenever I’m struggling with something and B) I just don’t have the attention span to meditate on something for more than about a minute. However, today I ate my words. Julia, our girls’ staff head, had suggested that if we got on our solo and weren’t sure where to start reading the Word, to start with Psalm 23. So I began there and then decided to continue on and read Psalm 24 and then Psalm 25. It was in this chapter that two verses stuck out to me and directed the next few hours.

“Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
For you are the God of my salvation;
For you I wait all the day long.”
-Psalm 25:4&5 (ESV)

One of the other suggestions for solo time had been that it was a good opportunity to seek the Lord’s Will on important decisions. At this present time, I have no important decisions pending…I am pretty settled in my occupation, city of choice, etc., etc., and through these verses I felt the Lord calling me to just seek Him because He loves me, and I Him and for no other reason. I was hit by the thought that so often I seek Him only for a purpose; I want wisdom, I want some blessing or some thing to go my way, I received wisdom or some blessing and I want to say thank you. Rarely do I seek Him, just to be with Him. Just to spend time together. Just to love Him, and let Him love me. For five hours I sat and pondered these verses, wrote them in the sand on the bank of the river, and danced in the freezing cold mountain spring water like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. My spirit was so overflowing by the time it was time to go in to lead worship that I’m certain I continued my schoolgirl antics whilst playing violin. But I’m in good company…David was undignified before His Lord, and after all…I’d just spent the day with the Lord with whom I’m crazy mad in love with.

Knock, knock…. “housekeeping”….


Since I arrived at JH I’ve been not only playing violin, but also keeping busy working at my assigned job on “housekeeping staff.” Starting on day 2 of my “Everlasting adventure” at the ranch, I have found myself cleaning toilets, pressure washing the bathmats in the boys’ communal bathroom, doing laundry, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing sinks, etc. It has been a humbling time for certain (funny enough the “word of the week” here at JH this week is “humility” hmmmm….) but I enjoy the satisfaction of seeing something dirty become clean (and TRUST ME…..with the boys toilets…there is lots of satisfaction to be had!) . The girls on housekeeping staff are WONDERFUL, as is Grace, our “mom” who keeps us all on task and under control (well, mostly.)

We start cleaning every day after breakfast by cleaning and resetting the tables in the staff dining area. Then we split into three groups and clean 1) the Lodge (where all the offices, the bookstore, the nurses’ station, the staff dining area, decks, game room and “fireside” meeting room are located, 2) the staff housing (parts of The Manor (full time staff), the Ritz, the Convent and the Bean (Girls’ staff) and the Boathouse (the boys staff communal shower)) and 3) the guest cabins (Cottowoods, Dogwoods, Maples, Madrones, Willows, Ponderosa, Redwoods, Birches, Hemlocks and one or two I’ve forgotten…keep in mind that each of these guest cabins has a side A and side B).

A few days ago, Chef Bob brought out “special breakfast” for us as we reset the tables after breakfast for lunch. It turned out to be bowls of chocolate mousse with whipped cream topping (mmm mmm good!) and as one might expect, we got a little crazy with it……this picture is (Left to Right) Joy, Emily, Claire, Me and Jenny.

[so my blog is having issues and won't let my post my pictures. sad. will do it soon.]

Sweet Southern Comfort…..carry on….




Since arriving in California, two things have been noticeably absent from my diet. The first are McDonald’s French fries and dollar-menu double cheeseburgers (plain, of course). As Wendy (roommate) and I don’t have Internet at our apt., and since I can eat for $2.36 and be full, I often head down to the Green Hills McDonalds for lunch/dinner/afternoon snack, and use their free WiFi to carry out my business whilst I eat cheaply. I am thankful for the lack of McDonald’s @ JH/Etna, CA, as my body is much healthier and skinnier without it. The second thing is sweet tea (Californians just don’t get it) and it is HIGHLY missed. I have yet to figure out how to fill this void.

A few weeks ago about 8 of us from the Deep South (there are a bajillion Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, Alabama folk around here) invaded Chef Bob’s kitchen and worked for about an hour trying to concoct the perfect batch of this magical elixir that runs through the veins of all true Southerners. We never achieved the greatness we hoped our striving would produce, and really the whole process served only to whet our desire for some quality tea.

A few nights ago my friend McKenzie ventured into town and found this Arizona “Southern Style” sweet tea and brought back a can for me. It’s not quite Milo’s (mmmm….the sweet goodness that can be achieved only by drinking that magic mixture tea from a milk jug)…but it was a welcome taste of home. He’s such a sweetie…wait, “sweet-tea.” (ba dum chhhhhhh).

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

life's a beach....



One of my favorite parts of ranch life is the lake. (Although I somehow still don't have a tan.....) Here are a few snapshots of hanging at the lake last week....
Jo, Ronnie's son, asked me to bury him in the sand because his "legs are really cold from the water."
Also, me with three of my favorite girls, Katie and Jenny Spalding, and Jamie Meyers.

Piper McNuggets

When I was in college, Mr. Eubie, perhaps my favorite Sunday school teacher of all time, taught a series on “Desiring God,” a John Piper text. The lessons were wonderful and made me go on to seek out Piper sermons, quotes, etc., but I’d never gotten around to actually reading the book for myself. Last fall the young singles pastor at my church gifted me 5 books, 4 of which were Piper and one of which was Desiring God. I shelved it carefully on my bookshelf under “P” on the “Christian” shelf (I’m a tad neurotic with my books) but never cracked it. I decided that my time at the ranch was going to be when I got around to reading it. I’m wading through it at the moment and loving it, although it takes a while to actually grasp what he’s talking about (the man was DEEP!) and thought that I’d leave you with some quotes to ponder. Piper says that each day we should find a “nugget” to meditate on throughout the day. Perhaps you’ll find one in one of these quotes.

*Life is hard and God is good.
*When delighting in God is the work of out lives, there will be an inner strength for ministries of love to the very end.
*Not only does the pursuit of joy in God give strength to endure; it is the key to breaking the power of sin on our way to heaven. “The joy of the Lord will arm us against the assaults of our spiritual enemies and put our mouths out of taste for those pleasures with which the tempter baits his hooks.”
*We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
*…..all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise. I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation
*Not to enjoy God is to dishonor Him. To say to Him that something else satisfies you more is the opposite of worship. It is sacrilege.
*What does it mean to glorify God? It does not mean to make Him more glorious. It means to acknowledge His glory, to value it above all things, and to make it known. It implies heartfelt gratitude: “The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me” (Psalm 50:23).
*Deep within us we all know that it is our duty to glorify our Maker by thanking Him for all we have, trusting Him for all we need, and obeying all His revealed will.
*We have exchanged and dishonored His glory again and again. We have trusted ourselves. We have taken credit for His gifts. We have turned away from the path of His commandments because we thought we knew better.

Whew. That’s all the nuggets I have for now. More later, no doubt.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

general update....

So I haven't had much time to write as of late but thought I'd just get off a quick update while I could grab a free computer.

*Trenton (our guitar player) spent some quality time in the camp infirmary and the Yreka emergency room last week with a terrible case of strep throat. However, his 103 temp has gone away after some prayer and IV antibiotics, and he's back in the saddle leading worship and working on the afternoon activities staff.

*Amber, the Freeman's summer nanny, arrived a few days ago and is wonderful! It's really nice to have another girl over 25 to hang with and I'm enjoying working with her on housekeeping staff and having her in the worship choir.

*I was excited to get some snail mail from my Mom and Grandma this week....it's always great to have something tangible in the mailbox! Thanks also to everyone who has written emails and facebook messages this week. Your encouragement has been vital.

*The "smoke on the mountain" is starting to lift and we've had clear skies for the past 2 or 3 days! We as a staff have been praying for the rain to come and for the skies to clear and for the residents of NoCal to know that it was the Lord's doing. Although we have yet to see rain, the skies are clearing all over the region and a few staffers on a "town run" to Etna yesterday overheard residents in a local restraunt proclaiming that "it must be a miracle from the Lord! Did you see how clear the skies are becoming!?" Praise Him for still moving and showering our land with Glory, if not rain!

*I'll be flying to Bethany Beach, Deleware this friday to play a Saturday night concert with Beth Cayhall and band! I'll be returning to the ranch on Sunday and am looking forward both to leaving, and to returning.

I've got to go get showered for worship rehearsal and have a few more blogs brewing in my brain that I'll get typed up soon. But...for now....thanks for all your prayers! Miss you all!

Blessings....

Monday, July 7, 2008

Humble Pie

If I’m going to be totally and one hundred percent honest…..I have truly had trouble adjusting to life here at the ranch. I’m living with more people than I’m comfortable, in a space much smaller than I’m used to, and expending more energy than I usually do on tasks that I’m not used to doing. HOWEVER, my attitude has also been pretty terrible. What began as fear and uncertainty has spiraled into a spirit of complaining and grumpiness where I took something valid and instead of seeking to improve my circumstances, I just nestled into my unhappiness and fed it. I’m not certain why I did this….I’m typically a fairly jovial and optimistic gal, but for whatever reason, I have chosen to live the past few days outside my normal persona.
This morning we had biscuits and grits for breakfast, and mine was served with a side (and a big fat helping I might add) of humble pie. I don’t remember the last time I had to be confronted about a poor attitude, but this morning a brother called me out (with love) on my complaining and I realized what an ugly spirit I had been exhibiting the past few days.

My decision to come to the ranch this summer was a long and difficult one, one that I didn’t even really feel I’d received confirmation on until my plane landed in Sacramento last Sunday. It was on the windy mountain roads between Yreka and Etna with the windows down, Hannah Freeman’s hamster gnawing contently on the fake log in her cage, and a Cindy Morgan album blaring on the stereo that I felt Him whisper that He’d brought me here this summer for an appointment and that He was going to complete a great work in me. What I longed for this summer to look like was lots of time in solitude, alone with my Bible and a good book and the Lord, praying through issues in my heart over scripture and a good cup of tea and being enlightened by the voice of God speaking to my heart. When I arrived and realized that that picture was unrealistic and inaccurate, I was disappointed and felt that I’d been refused something that I somehow deserved and became certain that what I needed I wasn’t going to find and that the voice I thought I’d heard whisper to me confirmation must have just been a strong wind.

A few days ago the head of girls staff spoke on Psalm 23 and I heard it in a way I’ve never heard it before. It begins:
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me like down in green pastures,
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His names’ sake”

Who am I to decide how my soul should best be restored? Who am I to dictate how I would like Him to go about completing a great work in me? He promised me that He had brought me here, and He promised to do a great work in me. To restore me, to grow me, to give me rest; and He is making me lie down in green pastures. Just like a little child might resist a nap because he would rather stay awake and play, his mother knows that what that child needs is rest, and needs it then. So she causes him to lie down; she carries him in to his crib and physically lays him on his bed so that he can rest because she knows that is what he needs. I left to my own choosing, I would be living in a cabin by myself a little ways up one of the mountains here to study in solitude, but He is causing me to “lie down” here…in a different way…surrounded by people, in community with the body of believers to be restored and encouraged not through being a studious recluse, but by learning the discipline of joy and to remind me that I am truly dependent on Him for my Joy.

My life in Nashville is amazing and blessed and as my mother would say, “a charmed life.” I go where I want, when I want, do what I want, and am blessed by having an occupation where I do what I do best and love most and sustain myself that way. I have amazing friends, a great place to live, everything I need in a five-mile radius. And while I acknowledge that He is the source that has provided all these material and emotional blessings, I don’t always rely on Him. I often extract my joy from the gifts that have been provided and not directly from the Giver Himself. Here, when I’m in the thick of cleaning a toilet, or vacuuming the same floor I vacuumed yesterday, I require Him, and Him alone to give me the strength to complete the task with a heart posture of servitude and an attitude of Joy. To complete menial tasks without complaining takes a supernatural power that only He can dispense.

He has made me lie down where He knows I can rest, and I cannot live a day without Him. My friend Jenny just stopped by the table where I’m writing and glanced at the title of my blog. “Humble pie is so good!” she said with a look of sweet satisfaction on her face. “I mean it doesn’t taste good going down….but when it gets where it’s going….mmmmmm, your blood just surges.”

P.S. I seriously considered deleting my previous two posts, one were my poor attitude was evident, and then the subsequent one where I tried to glaze over my bad attitude, but have decided to leave them both as a testament to the work He has obviously already begun to complete in me. Blessings to you all.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

attitude check.....

wow...i just reread my last post and realized how grumpy it sounded! I'm just REALLY exhausted tonight! On better notes...I have some really really sweet girls in my cabin and I'm adjusting to life here. :)

Casa de Bean




So..........just thought you guys would like a peek at my new abode. It's cramped. It's messy. So messy in fact, that it makes me nervous. The girls here have commented repeatedly on how neat I am. and what a fast shower taker I am. I have them all fooled. There are 24 of us. 2 bathrooms. You do the math! And to think that just a few days ago Wendy and I were complaining about the lack of closet space in Apt. E. I have included for your viewing pleasure a picture of my "closet." I got here and found out that all the cubbies" were taken so I was miserable for a few days and then got feisty and stole this shelf unit from the laundry room and moved in. This is all the "personal space" that I have. :)

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Smoke and Desperation...

The closest forest fire of the forest fires in California is 19 miles Southeast of the JH Ranch. Normally, or so I'm told, you have a great view of Mt. Shasta on the drive from Sacramento to Etna. When I made the trek with Ronnie and his kids (And hamster) in the cram packed mini van...all we saw was smoke. Not even an outline of Shasta was visable on the horizon. Today, the smoke entered the valley where the Ranch sits and the white cross that I labored to find a few days ago can no longer be seen from the front porch of the Bean.
This reminded me of a conversation that Ronnie and Wes and Trenton and I had two weeks ago on the way to THEE Camp and a blog I'd written, but never posted. Here it is for your contemplation.

As we drive through the back windy roads of Kentucky on our way from Tennessee to Missouri, the conversation turned to the wildfires occurring a few hours south of the JH Ranch in California, a place dear to all of our hearts. Wes asked if it was just because he was older and more aware of it, or if there seemed to be an increase in the number of natural disasters. What if it was the earth groaning for the return of the Lord?
My mind began to ponder what would the earth look like if we didn’t try to restrain it’s groaning? If we didn’t put out the wildfires or dry up the water left by rogue waves or attempt to build things resistant to the winds? What if we gave the earth over to its groaning and watched as the volcanoes erupted, mud and rocks slid down mountains, ice floes melted and flooded the earth, winds and waves swirled and whirled and blew and crashed and destroyed everything in their path without us trying to control, clean up or rebuild. What if we followed suit of creation; after all, aren’t we forsaking our created purposes as worshippers by letting the rocks and trees call out in our stead anyway? What if we adopted the same heart posture and cried out in total desperation; broken, violent, demanding the redemption and relief of our Creator; steadfast in our total reliance on Him and need for him to come and rescue us, set us free from the devastation that we have come to live in.

Two days after Hurricane Katrina hit, I found myself sitting on the floor of a red cross shelter with my arms wrapped around the frail, shivering body of a middle aged man who was suffering from kidney failure. I had wrapped about 4 blankets, a precious commodity in that situation, around him, but he continued to complain about the cold until he could no longer speak and began to groan. Tears rolled down his face and vomit mixed with bile and phlegm came from his mouth in short painful bursts spewing on to the blankets. His chest heaved up and down gasping for breath. We sat that way for about thirty minutes until he ambulance arrived to take him for the dialysis treatment his body needed to stay alive. This mans' entire being groaned and yearned for something to take him from his utter misery and torture. When he ceased to have the ability to cry out, his body did it for him; shaking, gasping, vomiting, pleading for healing or for death.

When I try to epitomize desperation and hopelessness, the picture that comes to my mind is of Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Christ. This woman has lost a dear friend and is already grief stricken, lonely and probably depressed. She has come to pay respects to the body of a man who encouraged her, taught her, loved her, lead her, affirmed her and redeemed her. Instead of finding his body, she finds angels where Jesus had lain and in John’s account she, “stood weeping outside the tomb.” When the angels ask her why she is crying she proclaims, “they have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have laid him.” Mary is desperate to find Christ, to see Him, to show her devotion to Him, just to be near Him and in His presence, even in the supposition that she will be only with His dead body, His shell. Like the woman with the issue of blood who was confident in her faith enough to know that if she could even touch the corner of Christ’s robe and be healed
What would my life be like if I existed in that state of groaning and desperation to cling to the Lord so that I was unable to carry on without His presence in my life. Could I reach a point where my life is a frenzied, violent storm of need for my Lord, pleading with Him to affirm my salvation yet again and to carry me out of this world to His home.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

the path to the Cross




This is my third day at the JH Ranch in Northern California and I'll admit that as beautiful as it is and despite how nice the folk are, it's a stretch for me to be gone this long, but mainly to be living in such cramped quarters (there are 26 of us girls in one double wide trailer. Think rooms of bunk beds, piles of clothing and the wait time to get into one of the 2 bathrooms) with so little personal time and space. So yesterday morning I was craving some peace and quiet and decided that a little solo hike up the mountain with my Bible and John Piper's Desiring God would be just the thing to nourish my soul. So I packed my backpack and headed down the road behind my cabin.

I've heard tales of the peace and quite and spiritual clarity one can find at the white cross on top of the mountain behind the stables. From the front porch of the "Casa de Bean" (my cabin) one can see this white cross way up above. So I decided that a hike there was just the thing for my morning and assumed that the road I was traveling would soon lead to a trail to the cross. After some distance I didn't find a marked trail of any sort, but did find a rabbit path that I decided to take. The climb was tricky in places but not technical, so I was fine and I followed it all the way to the top of that little peak. The view was beautiful but to my dismay, I noticed that the cross was on a summit next to me. Down I went....following other rabbit trails I found along the way, and sometimes making my way where there was no path. Every now and then I would glimpse the cross, but as much as I tried to hike towards it, I could not seem to get to it at all. I finally curled up in a shady spot and read the first few chapters of Desiring God before hiking down and heading to lunch.

That night one of the girls, "S," asked me how my day had been. I told her that I'd taken a 3 and a half our hike that morning and she asked where I'd gone. I told her I'd attempted to find the cross but never did locate it. We then moved on to other conversation about life, writing, what books we were reading etc., and then both climbed in our beds to drift off to sleep. We'd been laying there for about ten minutes in the darkness and I thought everyone was asleep when out of the night S said, "Hey Bethany?"
"Yes"
"How could you not find the cross?"
"I just didn't. I kept hiking to where I thought it would be, but I could never get there."
"Did you follow the path with the signs that say, 'This way to the white Cross?'"
"No...................."
"Oh...well you should do that next time......"

How often, I wondered, do I do that. Do I wander in the wilderness searching for the way that the Lord has marked out for me....not knowing that I'm just a few feet away from the signs pointing me in the direction I should go.