12.14.2011

Tonight, I think I really grasped over a bowl full of fettacini alfredo and a plate of nachos that God works in unexpected ways. I knew this. I've heard this a thousand times. And I'm still not sure how I feel about it. All I know is that God usually does His best work while we're planning something else.

In high school, I walked in wanting to be a super star athlete. I planned to play volleyball and basketball for my first two years, see how they went, then pick one and devote all my time to it. I was going to be a starter on varsity. I was going to get the letterman jacket. I was going to help out with the freshman teams. I was going to be it all.

The Lord absolutely wrecked that plan and it completely shattered who I was. I really wish I could describe how much I found myself in basketball. I ended up devoting my time my last two years of high school to various things: work, school, church, and my high school newspaper.

I really wanted in high school to leave a legacy. I wanted to make an impression on those younger than me and really care for them. I wanted to be a strong leader and someone those younger than me could look up to. I was so angry when the Lord took sports out of my life. How in the world was I supposed to do something worthwhile at my high school anymore? And yes, I was on newspaper staff but we all know that's nothing really of that much importance. Not that many people read it anyway.

But as I sat down to dinner to catch up with one of my old reporters from the paper, I got to see just how much of a legacy I left with the good old Anvil Newspaper. She began to tell me of everything that has happened with the paper this year. She told me of how she was doing things and the lessons she was learning through it all. I felt like It was like talking to my senior self. But I got to show her the other perspective. I told her about what I did wrong when I was editor, what I wish I could have done, and things that I found worked really well. And she listened. She really thought about what I had to say and told me her fears about certain situations. We chatted about almost everything and it was good. We fell back into the old rhythm like when I was back in high school but we had both changed so much since then that there was a newness to our relationship. I felt like we were getting somewhere. I felt useful. And I really needed that.

So as I look out at now the next 3 and a half years of my college life, I'm asking the question: what am I really doing? It's really scaring me because I feel like I've almost repeated my story. I walked into college thinking the Lord was going to use me in one situation, but I'm not totally sure that's where the Lord wants me to focus my time. I realize that I need to be open to the Lord. It's not about me. I need to find myself completely in Him and not what I am involved in. I feel like college is the time where you find yourself and that's what I've spent a lot of this semester trying to do: figure out who I am and what in the world I'm doing with my life. But I want to find myself in the Lord. I don't want to just throw that out there. I want to peruse it.

I'm learning how to expect nothing but Jesus. I'm begging the Lord to give me the strength and endurance to throw all my plans away because I have a good hunch that I'm going to find myself in four years saying the same thing I did tonight about basketball and newspaper just with different circumstances.

12.13.2011

Trust

I think that's a big thing I missed this semester. The belief that God is doing all that He promised to do. I so often forget how skewed my point of view is and that I only see part of the picture. I've been so numb lately to those around me. I've been frustrated that the Lord isn't doing things my way. I'm having to get over the fact that my way isn't best.

But I can hear the Lord calling me softly to Himself. He is asking for me to trust Him, to find myself in Him, to revel in Him, and to be wholly His.

I so badly want these things. I want to rest completely in the Lord's presence. I want to trust Him. I want to find all of me in Him. But I also want my way. I want happy endings and earthly victories. I know that I don't get what I want, I get what I need.

I want everything I know about the Lord to transfer to my heart. I've spent so much time in sunday school and countless bible studies that I finally want all that to click again in my heart. I want to feel the Lord again. I want to genuinely desire His presence, not doing it for the approval of others. I want to have a real conversation and get to the bottom of things. I want to be me, and not fear what others think. I so badly want to be me.

Trust. I don't want to trust the Lord when I don't understand, when I have nothing to base my trust on. The only thing I have is the Lord. I hate that kind of trust mostly because I stink at it. I let Satan trick me into believing all sorts of lies about why I shouldn't trust the Lord. They seem so logical. Mary Helen, do you have any evidence that you're doing any good there? Do you really think the Lord is using you? You're not good enough for them. You're always too scared, you'll never get over that. The Lord has better people to use. You've just messed things up even more.

Over and over again they repeat in my head. I sit there and think about these statements. And slowly I take them as truth. I believe that I'm not good enough, that I just keep making more messes that the Lord has to clean up, and that I am a failure.

I want to believe. I desire to trust You. To be free from these lies. Help me listen to You. Quiet my soul and tune my ears to hear Your voice. But most of all Lord, help me in my unbelief.


11.24.2011

Senior Speech

I've been a little hesitant to put this up here because it never really seemed like the right time. But as I've been thinking about who I've been lately and the person I desire to be, the Lord brought back to my attention my senior speech and what I wrote about. He reminded me of where He has taken me and the lessons He has taught me. Of how I learned in high school in a huge way that my identity was solely in Him and not the activities I participated in.
But I also want to share this because I want some accountability. I need a reminder of who I am. Lately I've gotten so caught up in things, that I feel like I've lost myself a little bit along the way. I ask you all to challenge me, to hold me to this, and to confront me when my heart goes astray.

My Senior Speech

I’m not one for being in the spotlight. Well, not at this point in my life at least. But there I was in the middle of the stage with a spotlight shinning on my face and hundreds of onlookers watching my every move. My mother’s voice echoed in my head “You have a voice. Use it.” This was my chance. The chance to let everyone see me, to finally let myself be vulnerable. This was that moment, and that’s when everything changed.

As I remember certain periods of my life, they always flash back in my head as moments. Nothing long or drawn out, just little snippets. Sometimes they are like pictures frozen in time, or like a flashback in a movie because for me, it all comes down to moments.

The summer before freshman year I sat in the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble at the center table. Mallory, who had just graduated from high school at the time, was sitting across from me. She was wearing a red and white baseball shirt and had just gotten her hair cut. She bobbed with excitement as she told me all about the college she would be attending in the fall. She would make statements like “this wallet will be so handy in college because I can fit my dorm key and ID all in the same place.” I didn’t really grasp everything she was saying, but nonetheless she was 18 at the time and I, a mere 15, so she could have said that the sky was actually a light shade of purple and I would have soaked up every word as concrete truth. Her college trance soon faded and she snapped back into the real world by asking me a simple question: “Are you ready for high school?” Um yes, thank you captain obvious. Middle school was a breeze and I was as confident as ever. I was an all around athlete. I made every “A” team possible. I knew what I was going to be in high school: an athlete. Easy. No big deal. Done. I never understood why she asked me that question, until about four years later.

Nobody liked to do that drill. Well, with a name like “Minute of Hell” it didn’t really bode well. But Coach Cronin had called for us to do it and our team headed to our side of the gym across from varsity to start the drill. I remember making some sort of off comment as we lined up. Nothing too bold, but just loud enough for one person to hear. Back then, I would have said anything for my team to like me. I was one of only two freshmen on the junior varsity team and the other one had a leg up by having a popular older sophomore brother that the others girls thought was cute. But our team captain was in no mood for my banter, and I soon found my back up against the wall, an unfamiliar clenched fist in my stomach, and a very frightening face staring at me. I tried to say something, but words weren’t forming. My voice was gone. I now understood, I wasn’t in middle school anymore.

I wasn’t going to give up. Not now. I had spent the last two years of my life trying to prove them wrong. But now that I was a month away from the beginning of my junior year, I knew it was time to move on. I was positive there was some reason for deciding not to continue on with basketball. I tried to tell myself that it was taking up too much of my time, that I needed to try new things as reasons for what I was about to do. But in the end, I knew people would consider me a quitter. I left my coach a message on her cell phone to call me back. Five minutes later, my battered black old razor began to ring and I picked up the phone. The next few minutes always come back to me as a blur. I mumbled something about why I had decided not to play basketball next year and all she said was “ok” and hung up the phone. I sat down on my bed in exasperation. What in the world had I just done?

Two weeks later I came home from camp to find a note taped to my door. “Call Renee Pruett about tutoring her 6th grade daughter, Kelly” The note sat on my desk for weeks as I would remember to call but then refuse to put forth the effort. It was summer, ok? I eventually called the mom back and scheduled a time to meet with this girl. All I can recollect about that first meeting was that this kid was shy. She had big brown eyes that gazed up at me with wonder. She held onto her blue flowery dress as her leg bobbed back and forth resisting the awkwardness. She looked to be about four years younger than me, about the same age difference between Mallory and me. That summer, I began tutoring her in math, nothing big, just a few lessons on adding and subtracting fractions, what a prime number was, and if a number was divisible by 6 or not. Sometimes I would be in the middle of explaining a problem or concept and she would break in as if she finally got up the nerve, and say something like “Will my teachers tell me when a test is?” or “Will there be a lot of homework in middle school?” Granted, these were small, cupcake questions, but I wasn’t ready for them. I was there to teach math and math only. Plus, I’m not very good at giving advice.

“I’m about to head to dress rehearsal and Randy will kill me if I’m late again,” I thought to myself as Rebecca called out my name to come over to where she was. But I turned around to see Kelly next to her, red faced and sobbing. Kelly caught my glance as we both proceeded to run towards the other. Her voice was shaking, and all she could manage to say was “Mary Helen”. We went around the back of the camp’s cafeteria and I sat her down, and just held her for a good two minutes. I couldn’t get much out of the kid, and through her mumbles deciphered something that sounded like normal middle school drama. I remember thinking in the moment that I wanted to just shake Kelly, to tell her that this was stupid, and in the end it didn’t matter. That’s when I saw myself in Kelly, where I remembered what it was like to be an insecure middle school girl. Maybe this was why I had quit basketball now just one year ago? I thought about being on varsity and my picture hanging in the gym. I thought about the sound of the announcer calling out my name as I run through the high fives from my teammates, and about my name being called on the announcements during school as being made first team All Region. I thought about wearing my letterman jacket around school with patch after patch of my accomplishments. Then I snapped back into reality and looked at the scared 12 year old in my lap and thought that maybe this was more important than anything basketball could have ever given me.

My mom continued to talk as she made me a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I tried to think about others things. I had been nervous all day and I couldn’t get tonight off my mind. My train of thought broke off as my mom said something about our director casting the parts really well. I had never thought about relating my character to myself, other than the fact that her name was Mary. My mom told me not to be afraid, and that she knows that I can play my role with confidence. She then said “You have a great voice, Mary Helen. Use it.” I looked up at her and saw that she meant it. I knew she didn’t say it because I’m her daughter and she wanted to help me not be so nervous. It was heartfelt, and it rocked me to the core.

The crowd was now silent, and the spotlight in my face was as bright as ever. I knew if I could just get the first word out, I could do it. I was the first one to speak and I felt like the microphone always blared my first line until the room got used to the loud sound. In the moments that proceeded, I thought about my mom out there in the audience. Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew what expression was on her face. I could feel her telling me I could do it. And I did. The word came out “Martha,” and it was solid. No shake, no fret, no fear. For the first time in four years, I spoke with complete confidence. People saw the real me, and I was ok with it. It was in that moment, where my real voice came out, that I realized why Mallory asked me that question four years ago. You’ve got to be rooted in who you are before high school, or you’ll spend four years unsuccessfully trying to find it in other people.

11.11.2011

Because I so easily forget

I'm thankful that the Lord gave me two parents who love and support me no matter what. I'm thankful for the way they have raised me and the woman of God that they continually push me and challenge me to be. I'm thankful for the Godly examples they have set for me and my brother.

I'm thankful to have a brother who is always there for me. I'm thankful for his wisdom and understanding. I'm thankful for the times he has let me sit in his car and yell and cry and work through whatever was going on my life. I'm thankful for the opportunity to share life with him at MC and see the great man he has become.

I'm thankful to attend MC and the way the Lord got me here. I'm thankful to walk on a campus daily that feels like home. I'm thankful for professors who know my name and the fact that I can get across campus in less than five minutes. I'm thankful for the way I can see the Lord on this campus. I'm thankful for the way I have been challenged here and the people the Lord has placed in my life. I'm thankful for the encouragement I have received and the community that the Lord has placed around me here. I know this is where the Lord wants me.

I'm thankful for my tribe here at MC. I'm thankful for the way it has challenged me. I'm thankful for the rush process and how I learned to truly depend on God through it. I'm thankful for late night follies practices, and broken black lights. I'm thankful for 7 a.m. pledge breakfasts and waking up at 6:57. I'm thankful for the peace the Lord has given me through it all.

I'm thankful for Pinelake and the way I have felt at home there. I'm thankful that they faithfully preach the word and for the way the Lord speaks to me through it. I'm thankful for their passion for missions. I'm thankful for the opportunity, Lord willing, to join them on a mission trip to France and for their heart towards the French people.

I'm thankful for the girls that, bless their hearts, live with me. I'm thankful for late night disney sing alongs and screamfests.

I'm thankful that life hasn't been easy and that I'm out of my comfort zone. I'm thankful that I serve a God who is faithful and sovereign over us.

I'm thankful for reminders, those wake up calls that help you remember who you are and whose you are.

I'm thankful for restful weekends and movie nights with my suite mate.

I'm thankful for thankfulness. Praise God that He has graciously continued to bless me despite my unfaithfulness.

11.06.2011

It's one of those days where I feel lost in brokenness. My heart is breaking all around me and I don't know where to begin.

Actually I do know. I know this begins with me. I am completely broken. I don't think I could be more broken. And the last thing I want is for anyone to know that my heart is ripping in two. I want people to see me as put together. Someone who is cool, calm, and collective. Someone who knows what's going on, who's got it together. But the reality is, I'm hiding and I'm struggling.

I don't mean to say this in a pitiful way or to denote that one particular circumstance, person, or event has caused this. This is just something that the Lord is bringing me through at this point in my walk with Him and it's hard. So hard. But I couldn't be more thankful for this time because I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere. I'm growing in the Lord like I never have before. I'm learning things about myself that I never knew. But mostly, I'm actually learning how to depend on the Lord and seeing how beautiful it is to truly trust in Him.

I remember one day in particular where I knew the Lord was going to have to carry me. I knew I couldn't get through it on my own. And it was a beautiful day, one of the hardest days, but beautiful none the least.

I've been avoiding myself a whole lot lately because I know I won't like what I see. I instead busy myself in looking at the brokenness of others. I convince myself that I am better than others because I would never do A, B, or C. I then put a spiritual backing on my judgement and tell others that I am going to pray for them or attempt to love on them. I give myself a pat on the back for my decision and then go about my day.

But that's not the way I want to live my life. I want to quit living in this wishy washy state. I want to stand for something. I want to be real with people. I want to genuinely love. I want to continue to depend on the Lord. I want to be honest with those around me.

Search my heart, O God. Know my anxious thoughts. Test me. Lead me, Lord. Oh please lead me. I want to serve You, I so badly want to serve you. Help me captivate my thoughts and run after You.

Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
Let the earth quake, our hope is unchanged.

10.25.2011

The best letters are those read while walking across the quad in 75 degree weather.

The best moments happen on the closet floor at 7 a.m. on the phone with your mom.

The best days are spent in complete and total dependence on the Lord.

The best prayers are those of honesty and vulnerability.

The best beauty is that which comes through humility.

The best circumstances are those that drive you to the feet of Jesus.

The best choices are those which force you to stand for something.

The best text messages come in the middle of watching Taming the Shrew in theater class.

The best struggle is that of surrendering everything you are to Christ.

The best victories are those unexpected.

The best fights are those of faith.

The best laid plans are those given to God.

The best expectation is Christ.

10.08.2011

The other day I came back from follies practice to find a gift basket at my door and a very excited roommate waiting to see my face as I walked in. Inside the basket was a bunch of candy, t-shirts, and other odds and ends from my big. But the thing I enjoyed most was the note from her inside the journal she gave me. I read it over and over again wondering who in the world my big could be. Nothing was concluded about the identity of my big other than the fact that she has really nice handwriting.

But the Lord opened my eyes to something as I was reading over her note before I went to bed. At the end of the note she wrote "I am so excited that you are my little." As simple as that sentence was, it really struck a chord in my heart. I am somebody's little, whoever she is. I am apart of her family, whoever they are. But I am HER little and she is MY big. Which got me thinking, isn't that so how it is with the Lord?

In Ephesians Pauls tells us that "In Him, we were also chosen" and that "He predestined us to be adopted as sons through Jesus Christ". This was God's plan, for us to become a part of His family. He chose me to be in His family, to be His daughter. I am HIS. How easily do I forget this? How easily do I live like I'm not a child of God, like I'm not apart of His family?

I got baptized when I was 16 in the Nueces River at my church camp in west Texas. I remember that whole week leading up to getting baptized. I had been in a bad spot with the Lord for a while and was struggling with insecurity so deep I didn't think I could recover from. Satan had a grip on me, telling me I wasn't good enough for the Lord to take me back. But the Lord worked His way into my heart by His grace and I decided that I didn't want to be manipulated by Satan anymore. I was the Lord's now. I remember being very nervous about getting baptized, I was scared of what people were going to think of me and if I had the strength to live my life for the Lord. But the Lord brought a verse from a song to my mind as I walked into the water that Friday morning.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow
the sun forbear to shine
but God who called me here below
will be forever mine
will be forever mine
You are forever mine

The last line kept repeating in my head as I walked out of the river that morning. I am forever the Lord's. Simple as that.

"Having believed, you were marked in Him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession-to the praise of His glory." Ephesians 1:13-14

I am marked with a seal. I am God's possession. He is MINE and I am HIS. How wonderful is that?

So thank big, whoever you are, for that much needed reminder this week. I can't wait to find out who you are.

9.20.2011

All together now

Break my heart, Lord. Open me up and heal me. I am wounded, I am broken beyond belief. May I not try to be anything but who you created me to be. May I be yours and your alone. Take my heart Lord, let it be all for you and for your glory. Help me remember your faithfulness, but mostly help me trust you completely.

I am yours. I am not my own. Give me the strength to let others in. Open up my heart to them. Help me love those around me. I don't want to be cliche, Lord. I just want to follow you. I didn't expect to be challenged Lord. I didn't expect it to be like this. But it's so much better. So so much better.

I want to sit in your presence again. I mean really sit. I want to feel you with me and rest in your peace. Let the cry of my heart be Jesus. Let the motivation of my actions be Jesus. We are yours, Lord. We are yours. I am yours.

"Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." Philippians 2:12-13

Lord, work in me. Rock my world. Turn it upside-down. Uproot me. Shape me. Mold me. Become my everything.

8.29.2011

Caitlyn

I never thought as a senior in high school, I would find strength in the eyes of a sixth grade girl. But this past summer, that is exactly what happened.

Most days I long for that moment again. I think about how angry I was at the Lord, and about how frustrated my situation had made me. I remember the way the Lord humbled me. I also remember how in that moment, as I sat on that bright green sleeping bag with a 12 year old little girl named Caitlyn, the only thing that came out of my mouth was a song.

I'm not a singer. I've always wished that I was, but unfortunately my brother got that gene in our family and the rest of us have had to get by in children's choir and middle school choir learning to artfully and gracefully lisping. But as Caitlyn looked at me with those big blue eyes full of tears, and signs of fear and loneliness, all I could do was sing "our God is greater, our God is stronger, our God is higher than any other, our God is healer, awesome in power, our God, our God" over and over again.

By this time, my newfound cabinmates had stopped there game of "let's see who can scream the loudest" and the people who were now passing by our quarantine room gave confused looks as they went about their nighttime activities. For the first time that day, I felt the Lord's peace. In those few moments, I knew I served a faithful God. I knew His plan was perfect. He knew I needed Caitlyn just as much as she needed me.

Sometimes I wish I could relive that moment. I wish I could sit there with Caitlyn again and sing over her. I wish I could feel the Lord's sovereignty again as I did in those moments. I wish I could look into her eyes and find the strength to withstand the storm.

That night as I stopped singing, I apologized to her for my inability to hit any note. She then said to me "No, no, I liked it." So we picked up again together this time. A kind of silence filled the room. The whole atmosphere had changed. The sorrow had gone, the tears had dried up, and we all knew the Lord was watching over us.

The Lord provides. He always provides.

8.25.2011

I really want to have a long chat with my best friend over some cookie dough right now.

I want things to start to fall into place.

I want to wake up in the morning with a desire to dig into the word and be rooted in it.

I want to be selfless.

I want to go throughout my day remembering who I am, but mostly whose I am.

I want to lose myself in the Lord.

I want to quit surviving and start thriving.

I want to be receptive of people's love and be able to return it.

But most of all, I want comfort.

But I know I don't need comfort.

I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I'm thankful for being out of my comfort zone.

I'm thankful for this discomfort because I know the Lord is faithful.

Lord please, tell me the story again. Help me remember. Lead me by still waters. I want to be near you and listen to you speak. I am here. My heart has wandered, but I am here. I need you. I need to hear the story again. I want to hear of your faithfulness and of your grace. I want to hear how you use the weak and how you strengthen them. I want to worship at your feet. Let the world pale in comparison to You. Let me come before You with a pure heart, Lord.

8.14.2011

Daughter,

Give me your hand. Now don't be scared, I know you can't see the other side but I'll be right here the whole time. Find your courage in me, I will sustain you. You are my daughter, I created you for this moment right now, and for this place. This is where you will go, and you will grow in me. This is your home. Life is not going to be perfect, but in following me you will never have an easy life. That is not what is best for you. Here, I will challenge you, I will equip you, I will mold you, and I will fill you. My child, seek me every day, for you will find me. I am here, always. Don't ever think you are not good enough for my love. I want you. I gave up everything for you. Look at me, I want you to remember who you are for you are mine. Rise up, o child, and fulfill my purpose for you. I can't tell you everything right now. You will find out in due time.

For I will cover you with my feathers, and under my wings you will find refuge; my faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror or night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked If you make the Most High your dwelling-even the Lord, who is your refuge-then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For I will command my angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.

Go, and be in this place. This is your home. Fight the good fight of faith. Take courage. Don't look back. Give me your hand, I can't wait till you get to see what's in store. It's a pretty good plan if I do say so myself.

all my love,
your heavenly father

7.21.2011

Divide and Multiply.



This is a dream, a dream for the world to see You
a dream for the world to know You, to love Your name




Lift up a shout, lift up a cry to shake the ground
Shout and the walls are coming down
Yeah, we're running after You.

Like meiosis and mitosis. Multiply. Magnify. Amplify. Let's do it. It's go time.

7.11.2011

Clean House.

If you look hard you might find it. Just walk through the junk, take a look behind the clutter, it's there I promise. It just got lost a few times. Its purpose paled in comparison to others. But the others all failed. All it needs is a chance, for someone to look at it differently than before, for someone to see it for what it could be, not as what it is.

Find within this mess a heart that's still beating. Take it and use it. Renew it. Shape it. Shine Your light upon this restless heart.

7.10.2011

This past week I volunteered at Camp Blessing, a camp for kids with special needs. I had become a little prideful in the days preceding camp. I kept thinking to myself how Godly I was for giving up my time to serve the Lord. So I puffed out my chest, jumped on my high horse, and headed to camp.

The Lord always says he will exalt those who humble themselves and humble those who exalt themselves. That is just what happened to me. Right before the campers arrived, our cabin leader sat us all down and read Luke 17:10 "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty."

Hello. I am unworthy. I could feed every orphan in Africa, cure cancer, and adopt 15 kids and I would still be an unworthy servant. Who am I to think that I am doing something above and beyond? This is what Jesus called me to do as a believer: to serve. And I think that I am better? That I am worthy? Everything good deed that I did this week at camp: every time I held a camper's hand, every time I served my camper food before myself, every time I held my camper and let her lay in my lap during worship because she was feeling homesick is like dirty rags compared to the Lord. At the end of every day, I am unworthy.

Who am I? I am a messed up girl with a wayward heart but thankfully by the grace of God through faith, I am a servant of Christ Jesus, and a pretty unworthy servant at best.

6.15.2011

Treasures.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
-Psalm 139:13-14.

6.12.2011

Camp Tallowood.

Let's start with sixth grade. Here is the only picture of me at camp in sixth grade to my knowledge. I'm wearing an aqua color shirt, but don't try to find me. I'm about the size of a neutron. Or try to find me. It's your call really. Most of camp that year was a blur. I don't really remember much, but I do remember somethings.

1. A guy with red hair (possibly one of the Heflin brothers) took me and some other girls in my cabin to the senior-sixth grade breakfast. I straitened my hair that morning.
2. Kathryn and I convinced our leader(whoever that was) that we were triplets and that Elise was the third. (We explained her red hair by saying it was from our mothers side).
3. The girl on the top bunk in our cabin above Emily threw up(from the top bunk) while we were in mid-prayer one night. Our cabin smelled for the rest of the week.
4. The Players did an interp to Here is Our King and I knew from that moment on that I wanted to be a Player one day.
5. I saw who Jesus really was for the first time that week and my life has never been the same. I came home wanting to do nothing but read my Bible, because finally everything in it made sense.

7th grade. So that year, I apparently didn't know what sunscreen was and thought sunglasses made me look like a cool high schooler. My favorite camp t-shirt was also from this year (it was ligh blue, my favorite color). We studied Genesis that year and I don't remember exactly what the Lord taught me, but I remember sitting in worship every night blown away at how big of a God I served.


8th grade. That year at camp was especially fun for me. I had befriended a senior in our youth group named Mallory the past spring and getting to say hi to her at camp was the most exciting thing in the world. It was the first year my birthday fell on the week of camp and Mallory gave me a small travel sized bible for my birthday since I had been complaining about carrying my huge one around for weeks. My parents even came to camp that year as sponsors. And my father, bless his heart, managed to break his knee and cut his head open in less than three days. It's ok though, he made new friends at the hospital. People at camp kept telling us we should wrap him in bubble wrap. We probably should have.

In our tribal shout, I had to play some sort of egyptian princess and Ryan was Pharaoh, which explains the funny makeup in the above picture. We took a hike as a whole camp that year to a place where they had built a mock temple. We saw our pastor who acted as the high priest sit down to symbolize how his job was finished because Jesus died on the cross. Now, all could come into the presence of God.

Freshman year. That was a big one. I remember being ready for the Lord that year at camp. I was thirsty for Him. The man who was supposed to come and be our camp pastor had broke his back the week before camp and was unable to come. So some leaders in our church and youth group preached in place of him that week. On tuesday night, our youth secretary Rebecca spoke. The Lord spoke in powerful ways through her and by the end of the night I found myself up at the front just saying "Yes, Lord" in response over and over again. I got baptized that year. I remember coming up out of the water thinking about the last line of a Chris Tomlin song that said "But God who called me here below will be forever mine." God was forever mine and He always will be.

Sophomore year. Well, Margaret finally decided to come to camp. My sunday school teacher and I schemed all year long to get Sarge to camp and came out victorious. Also, a few of my friends and I made a camp promo video called Camp Tallowood throwdown. It was a take off of the hoedown throw-down from Hannah Montana. We now have 603 views on youtube. Yup, we're cool. My camp book that year is stuffed with notes from the service each night. I remember running out of room while my hand cramped as I tried to catch everything the pastor was saying.

Junior year. That year was special in a bunch of ways. I got to perform with players for the first time at camp. And Kelly was a sixth grader at camp, which made me nostalgic. I was blessed to have Carolyn as my leader again that year. One of my friends and I prayed for brokenness in the weeks prior to camp. We prayed that the Lord would rebuild our hearts again, and that the Lord would make us whole in Him. That week at camp was the beginning of an almost year long process of healing.

So I get the privilege of leaving in a mere six days for my senior year at Camp Tallowood. At camp over the years, I have been exiled, I have wandered like the Israelites, I have seen Jesus crucified, Isaac almost sacrificed, and the temple destroyed. Lord only knows what's in store this year. But I'm going to sing, and dance, and listen, and break, and be renewed one last time. Camp Tallowood, it's go time.

6.09.2011

Focus.


Let's just be honest here, I don't deal with rejection well. I'm realizing a lot of things about myself lately, and one thing in particular is that I become bitter when people reject me. My first name is Mary, which apparently means bitter. Sometimes I'm a little bit discouraged by this. I feel that I am doomed to be bitter in life because it is my name. But I'm beginning to understand that the meaning of my name is more like a warning label than a defining characteristic. I am going to have to work hard to get over my grudges and forgive. It's a challenge really. And if I've learned anything from my friend Margaret, it is that you can do anything that you set your mind to and that challenges can be really exciting because when you overcome them, well that's an accomplishment.

This past year I applied for a discipleship program for the summer at a camp I had gone to for the last three summers. My brother had done the same program when he was a senior and was now a counselor at camp. I remember seeing him change so much that first summer he spent at camp in the discipleship program. I saw him grow exponentially in his relationship with the Lord. He became so wise, and such an amazing man of God. He had such a Godly confidence that just radiated from him. I desired to experience the same thing myself when I was his age.

So I applied to this program saying I was just going to trust the Lord with it. I put on fake smiles and when talking about the program I would lie to people saying I would trust the Lord's plan whatever the outcome. Inside I knew I would be devastated if I didn't get in, mostly because I was afraid I would never get to experience the change that I had seen my brother go through while there. I was worried I would never become this confident woman of the Lord. I wanted this program to fix me. I wanted it to erase my hurt, my insecurity, and mend my relationship with the Lord. I was counting on this program.

Then I got a text from a friend who had also applied asking if I had gotten a call from camp. Some other people she knew had gotten a call from camp saying they were in. So I waited for the next week hoping that every unknown caller would be someone from camp telling me that they had chosen me to be in their program. My rejection email slipped itself into my inbox only a week later. But by that time, I had lost hope and had seen it coming.

The worst part of it all, was that this camp had a heart beat for Jesus. It was a camp that I knew was no wishy washy Christian camp. It was the real thing. They followed Christ. So what was wrong with me? Was I not Godly enough?

Getting rejected from a Christian organization was rough. The insecurity that sprung from it was unlike any I had dealt with before and it was destructive. Telling people that I knew the Lord had a plan was a lie to hide behind. I was mortified, angry, confused, and bitter.

I'm still struggling with trusting the Lord. Some days I'm so angry that the Lord chose not to put me there. Didn't He know how closer I would be to Him if I was there? But the Lord has reminded me the past few days that I don't see it all. My view is out of focus. Like the picture above, I am only able to clearly see part of the picture, but God sees everything that is going on. I could sit here and try to figure out why the Lord wanted me here this summer. But my hope doesn't lie in figuring the Lord's plan out. My hope lies in loving and trusting Him.

So I'm going to focus on the things in front of me, and I'm going to pray that the Lord gives me the strength to forgive and to trust. With the Lord's strength, I'm going to fight every instinct in me to be bitter about not getting into the program. And the funny thing is, I'm slowly starting to experience that confidence I saw my brother gain. Who knows? Maybe the Lord's in charge of my path for a reason.

5.30.2011

You're ok. I'm ok. We're ok.

Dear Kelly,

My time at 935 Echo Lane has officially ended; yours, on the other hand, has just barely begun. I'm not great at giving advice, but there are some things you should know about good old MHS before you ever step foot in those color coded hallways.

It's a unique school, not like any other. To get the most out of it, you must first understand those who makes up the school. We are often stereotyped or people come in thinking they know what we're all like. And yes, some people do fit the stereotype, but they're a very small minority. And then there are many who seem like they are the stereotypical "Memorial girl" on the outside. They might have the big house, a lot of friends, or a nice car, but do not be fooled by appearances. Don't take them for what's on the outside. Give them the benefit of the doubt. I judged a lot of people in my grade throughout high school only to find out that one girl struggled from the most vicious insecurity that lead to an eating disorder, one girl lost her aunt a week before graduation and was torn up over it, or that the talkative girl in the front of my english class tried to kill herself, twice.

So don't you ever judge them. For if you do, you will find yourself sitting in your english class on the last week of your senior year broken over those who struggled with abusive parents or parents who passed away, because you never got over your pride and gave any of them a chance.

Never tell yourself that you can't do anything. Once you say it, it's true, and only because you told yourself you couldn't. Learn to discern between the voice of the Lord and that of Satan's. Satan wants to destroy those who can do the most for the Lord, and those who are threat to him. So he'll probably try to mess with your head. He'll probably say you're not good enough to be friends with so and so. He'll put a mean thought in your head about the girl next to you. He'll tell you that you can't do something, and that you will never feel apart of something. Don't believe him. I did, and it destroyed my relationship with God. Captivate your thoughts, stay in close contact with the Lord and you'll be fine.

Don't forget to just enjoy yourself. For when you have two lab reports to write up, a vocab test the next day, a map due for world geography, and a pile of laundry waiting to be done, remember that in the end, nothing matters but the Lord. So every once in a while, let the homework sit for just a few more minutes, tell yourself that wearing those jeans again without washing them isn't so bad, and grab a good book, finish that movie you've been meaning to, or call up that friend you've been saying you'll have coffee with them for forever now, because once the hats go up in the air at graduation you might look back and wish that you had enjoyed life a little bit more.

Don't worry about college. Don't do things just to put on your resume, do the things that you love. Dont' get discouraged when you fail or when things don't go your way, we all have been there.

But above all, love the Lord and pursue Him constantly. Don't ever be ashamed of yourself or try to be someone your not. If you be yourself, you just might be surprised at the responses you get. Let the Lord shine through you. Smile and laugh alot, it's good for you.

And yes, the great state of Louisiana might separate us, but I'll always be one phone call away.

your sister,

MH

5.27.2011

I remember a 12 year old girl who fell in love with Jesus one summer. I remember how her world was turned upside down, and how Jesus became her life. When the Lord would challenge her, she would take it on with no questioning. She didn't care what others thought about her. She would speak boldly about the Lord in front of people with no fear. She knew who she was because Jesus was who she was, and she didn't care if she wasn't the most popular girl because of it.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to that middle school girl who put Jesus first in her life. I try to think about the past four years and wonder why I lost that fervor. Then I remember all those times I believed Satan's lies. I would let myself think that since I was not perfect, I couldn't do anything for the Lord, or that I was better than everybody else. I let walls build up between the Lord and me. My relationship with the Lord became stagnant as I chased after acceptance.

High school was a battle. I lost my voice somewhere along the way and with it, who I was. Not to say that all of high school was bad, there were moments of small victories, and times where I held onto the Lord. I'm not sure the best thing to say is that I'm thankful it's over, but instead that I'm thankful it happened. The Lord is slowly mending my heart, and weaving me back into the woman of God He wants me to be.

Yes, I am not that 12 year old girl anymore and my relationship with the Lord is weak. But, I've heard that trials and weakness are just what we need to amplify the hope we have in Christ.

"Little by little, I will transform your weaknesses into strengths. Remember that your relationship with Me is saturated in grace. Therefore, nothing that you do or don't do can separate you from My Presence."
-Jesus Calling

Praise the Lord.

5.13.2011

I am not a scientist. I don't necessarily enjoy science. I don't plan on doing anything with my life that involves a massive amount of science. So why in the world did I decided to take AP Bio? I don't know.

But I am as of today, officially done with AP Biology, and therefore done with science forever.

Although my inclination towards biology and all things science is anything but large, I actually ended up enjoying the class. There you go Mrs. Strait, I said it.

I got the joy of spending my senior year with a textbook called Biology. How creative. It was 1,000 pages of information upon information. One thing I learned in biology is that you will never know everything about biology. The subject's infinite. The amount of stuff that people know about it could fill up book after book and the amount of things yet to be discovered is limitless.

Through seeing how the nerve cell is structured in just the right was so that impulses can reach our brain the fastest, how negative feedback allows for a reaction to be suppressed if the product becomes overwhelming, how hormones are regulated in our body , I saw glimpses of God's perfection. Everything we learned about seemed to just scream out God's name. Everything pointed to the Lord. Why in the world do the enzymes in our body work perfectly at the temperature our body is normally functions? What triggers cells to undergo mitosis? My teacher would say "look at this! and how structure fits its function" all the time. It was one of those "AP themes" on which they like to test us.

I remember one time my teacher was lecturing about the nervous system and at one point all she could say was "wow" over and over again. All I could think was God over and over again.

Creation is crying out to the Lord. That's what I got out of biology this year. That our God is perfect, and that if we keep silent, the rocks really will cry out.

4.26.2011


Over the past year, the foundation of my faith has been cracked. I've been looking for some concrete answers, something on which to hold, something where I can say with confidence "this is why I believe what I believe." But I haven't found that solid evidence. In fact, I'm realizing that I shouldn't be seeking a concrete answer.

Think about it. If there were some evidence that was obvious and unquestionable that Jesus Christ is Lord, then there would be no need for faith, no need for trust, and really no need for Christ.

I believe the answer is in the eyes.

Just look at those who follow Christ when they talk about the Lord. It makes me think about my pastor and how he always has a certain radiance when preaching, or my sunday school teacher sophomore year who would get goose bumps when teaching a lesson.

I was watching a video of the Passion World Tour (if you don't know what Passion is all about go check out www.268generation.com. It is seriously worth your time.) and Louie Giglio, who heads up Passion, was talking about a man that helped coordinate Passion Tokyo. The man originally didn't want to help out because it was a Christian conference, but decided to do it anyway.

He ended up hanging around the conference center the night of Passion Tokyo to see what it was all about. He came back and told Louie the next day:

"I've never seen anything like tonight. The eyes of the young people tonight were shinning, and there was something different in the room. "

It's us. We are the proof that Jesus is Lord.

"But the Lord said to ananias, 'Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name.'" Acts 9:15

*All picture credit goes to Passion Conferences.

4.22.2011

Shaken.


Passion was a whirlwind. One that I am still continuing to learn from. One of the most vivid moments I have from that weekend was during a song called Set Free by Chris Tomlin. Now I had bought the Passion CD a week or two before the actual event and fell in love with the song even before I got there. Set Free is basically a Christian version of a pump up song. So when we were in one of the main sessions and Chris Tomlin began to sing Set Free, I was ready to just go crazy. Luckily, one of my friends next to me was also loving the song and we went crazy together.

There's a line in the song that says "And we'll dance, dance, dance in Your freedom. O your glorious freedom, forever more." And basically everyone in the arena starts jumping up and down and dancing like fools for the Lord.

So there was about 10,000 students at this conference. And there are now at this point 10,000 students dancing for the Lord. It was a beautiful sight. But all the sudden my friend next to me stops dancing, waits a few seconds, and then turns to me and says:

"Mary Helen, can you feel it? The ground is shaking."

Sometimes I wish I could relive that moment over and over again. 10,000 college students jumping and dancing all for the glory of God. But then I think about how 10,000 of us are now scattered around the globe carrying the name of Jesus. One of the coolest things I took away from Passion is that I am not alone. There are still thousands of students and adults who passionately love the Lord and want to serve them with their life. Now, every time I look at my wristband I am reminded of that moment when the ground was shaking and how it must still be shaking because 10,000 plus of us are out there carrying the name that is above every name.

#It'sgotime #Jesusmovement

4.16.2011

Slipping away.

I've reached a place in my life where I'm running to the Lord saying "Daddy I'm scared." I feel like time is slipping away from me. To where I can't make it slow down and savor everything that is sweet in my life. My mind is going in five thousand different directions.

I think what's rocked my world the most lately is the fact that I'm slowly realizing that I'm going to college in a few short months. Let's be honest. I never really thought I was actually going to go to college. Not in a I'll never get in kind of way but in a that's so far off, I don't think it will actually happen kind of way. But here I am, heading to MC in just a few short months. My life in Houston will cease to exist. I'm moving. And moving on.

Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked. I sometimes find myself in class just daydreaming about being up at MC. But Houston is all I've known. It's always been home.

There's always been Monday night players rehearsal where Margaret tells me the newest story about something that happened at her school. There's always been donut Fridays in biology. There's always been Impact, and Camp Tallowood.

But when did I find myself driving down my street looking at my ten year old neighbor who I used to babysit when she was four? When did I find myself getting letters about senior recognition Sunday at church?

Life is moving fast. Faster than I can seem to keep up with. I was never supposed to go to college. I was never supposed to graduate high school. But maybe it's about time.

Lord, lead the way.

4.12.2011

Comfort

This beautiful girl to the left is Diana. And I have absolutely fallen in love with her. I think some people look at her and see her disabilities and the obstacles she has to deal with. But for me, I just see perfection and God's masterpiece.

Every time I see Diana I'm always reminded of the idea of comfort for those who follow Christ. At Spark(our disciple now weekend) the speaker said "It's really great to live in America because we have everything we need. It's also bad to live in America because we have everything we need." It's so easy for me to get scared and stay in my comfort zone. I remember at Passion a few weeks ago just sitting in one of the worship sessions begging the Lord that I would go out and proclaim His name with fear and awe. That I wouldn't slip back into an easy life.

But I get nervous and I look around and think about going to school, and being in newspaper and math class, and all that biology homework I have to do. And suddenly I lose that ferver. I let the Lord fade back into a God that fits in better with my schedule. Because Jesus is sometimes scary. What I mean is that, following Jesus is scary. Getting yourself to the point in your life when you can say "To live is Christ, and to die is gain" is not an easy road.

Over the weekend, I watched a documentary called Beware of Christians that they had given us at Passion. Essentially, it is these four college guys who are Christians and they set out and backpack through Europe and ask people about what it means to be a Christian in hopes of finding out how Jesus "fits into American Christianity."

Well one of the guys was introducing himself and he said "Hi I'm Adam(or whatever his name was) and I'm a Christian, I'm just not sure I'm following Christ."

This is a scary statement. At least, it put fear into me. As Americans, it's easy to ignore the world around us. It's easy to live in our bubble, and only take care of ourselves. We're comfortable.

A wise friend once told me that kids with special needs are not here for us to teach them, but for them to teach us. And that's how it is with Diana. We're the ones with disabilities, not Diana. And the same is true for us followers of Christ who live in "comfort". We're the ones with the real disabilities. Christ does not call us to comfort.

I know for me, that means fighting daily the urge to serve a God whose comfortable to me.

4.03.2011

I feel like there's not the right words, except Jesus.

How was this weekend?
-Jesus.

How was Passion?
-Jesus.

What did the Lord teach you?
-Jesus.

Did you like your group?
-Jesus.

How were the speakers?
-Jesus.

It just keeps repeating in my head: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...

No other name, mighty to save, Jesus, Jesus. May I strive for the the root of my joy to be Jesus. May I carry His name with fervor and awe.

3.09.2011

somewhere in between.

Lord I come, I confess  Bowing here I find my rest  Without You I fall apart   
You're the one that guides my heart  Lord, I need You, oh I need You 
Every hour I need You  My one defense, my righteousness  Oh God, how I need You  
Where sin runs deep, Your grace is more       
Where grace is found is where You are               
And where You are Lord I am free      
Holiness is Christ in me              
Yes where You are Lord I am free                      
Holiness is Christ in me           
So teach my song to rise to You  When temptation comes my way            
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You  
Jesus You're my hope and stay           
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You 
Jesus You're my hope and stay.

When words seem inadequate, there is Chris Tomlin, and Jesus of course.