"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."

"The things that will destroy America are prosperity-at-any-price, peace-at-any-price, safety-first instead of duty-first, the love of soft living, and the get-rich-quick theory of life."
-Theodore Roosevelt


I am thoroughly disturbed: "For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths." 
2 Timothy 4:3-4 
Oh, gentle reader. I believe that time is upon us. It seems to me finding an individual of integrity is akin to finding a needle in a very large haystack. 


For I know of churches where greed and lack of self-control are ripping the body in two. 


I watch the news, where the primary goal is not to broadcast informative reports, but rather push, nay, shove an agenda onto the viewer. 


I look to our leaders in government, and all I see are men and women lining their pockets with dollar bills. 


I look at my fellow citizens, and I see people demanding their 'entitlement'. 


I watch people treating others without the slightest decency.


And, with horror, I often catch myself falling into those same traps.


The world is rife with corruption, dear friends. At times, I despair. I think, "Why should I even try?"  I have long felt a quiet tug on my heart to plant myself inside a modern day Vanity with its accompanying Fair (namely the 'fair' Washington DC and London). But too often, I think of my call and dismiss it. Who am I kidding? Did I even hear right? 
I know that you, kind reader, have also trudged through the Slough of Despond ("The Pilgrim's Progress"). The roar of spiritual battle seems too deafening and your sins too heavy. I urge you (and my own soul) to remember this: 

"Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light." (Romans 13:11-12)

Now, ladies and gentlemen, is the time to take up arms. This despair we see should shake us to our core and remind us of the urgency of Spiritual Warfare. Why should we try, dear reader? We should try because that is what we are called to do. If we do not try, we are forever in that Slough of Despond, watching the world warp faster and faster. "Put on the full armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil." Ephesians 6:11

Put on the armor and pick up the "sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Eph. 6:17) and I will do the same, right this instant. 

For the darker the night, the brighter Christ will shine, and we must be willing to follow the call into the darkness. 

"He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!

Our God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!

Glory, glory, hallelujah!

Glory, glory, hallelujah!

Our God is marching on."

You pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow.

Sometimes, I pretend I have a voice like this. 
Alas, I do not.

I heard this song and I thought, "What an adequate way to express my feelings toward 2010." Now, I don't really care about New Year's, never have. In fact, I'm usually in bed before midnight. However, I've had ample time to sit and ponder everything from my propensity to misinterpret (which has manifested itself in my entire family assuring me Russia is inherently evil...long story) to my latest budgeting scheme. I thought back over this long and short year: divided neatly into two radically different parts. Truly, I can now praise God for all He has done, even though some of it hurt like the dickens. I've realized that I can sing because I'm free in Christ, and I must never allow a human being or idea or passion or a million other things to take His place.
So long 2010! I'm glad you're done.

As for you, 2011...show me what you can do. I ain't never scared.

Littlefield

Upon graduation, I practically ran out of town. One of our fine modern day bards might say I chucked a deuce. At any rate, I felt like my dreams were too big and too lofty for Littlefield. I looked around town and my skin crawled. I held the opinion that Littlefield is a vortex: if you hang around the edge you'll get sucked back in. The only way to avoid a lifetime of gossip and football games was to get the heck out of Dodge and stay out.
Whenever people at college talk about going home or reminisce about the past, I have to stifle my gag reflex. In my head I think, "Oh ho ho. You couldn't pay me to go back to that swirling dust bowl. I'm so much better than that."

Well, I'm here to apologize. I was driving home on Highway 54, a route I could drive with my eyes closed, and I was struck by a thought:
I thought about all the people that loved me.

I thought about how growing up in a small West Texas town instilled values in me that are worth far more than gold: how to work hard, how to look out for your fellow man, how to fear the Lord, and how to give thanks.

I thought about how Littlefield is part of my heritage. No matter where I go I'll always be a small town girl. I'll always be loyal and true and "pledge my might to honor and right".

I thought about the land: so desolate and flat and utterly lonely. Yet each day God displays His splendor with awesome magnificence: streaking the sky with colors so rich and brilliant an artist's palette could never render them justice.

I could continue, but all these sentimental notions are starting to feel sticky. I'll just close with this: I'm glad I grew up where I did. For all my bluster, I won't ever forget where I came from.
That is a promise.

Now to the Lord sing praises, All you within this place!

"God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay.
For Jesus Christ our Savior,
Was born on Christmas Day;
To save us all from Satan’s power,
When we were gone astray.


From God our heavenly Father,
A blessed angel came.
And unto certain shepherds,
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in Bethlehem was born,
The Son of God by name:


Fear not, then said the Angel,
Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Savior,
Of virtue, power, and might;
So frequently to vanquish all,
The friends of Satan quite;


Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood,
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas,
Doth bring redeeming grace.


O tidings of comfort and joy!"

Wanting to be caught.

I am not happy with you. I used to be, right up until the point you told me you were throwing me back. You are an expert fisherman: patient, skillful. You reeled me in and whispered that you were a novice. It's all luck, really. I wanted to be your very best catch. I tried to make my scales twinkle in the sunlight. I wanted to make you proud. I did, for a little while.

But then, you frowned. You told me I wasn't the right one. The right one, you said would tug at your line so hard the boat would capsize. The right one for you would be beautiful, her movements graceful. I was just fine, you said, but you could catch better. You told me you were doing me a favor as you flung me back into the sea. I would be happier back in the water, far away from your boat. It's all luck, really. Too bad you caught me.

By the time I broke the surface, my scales were dull. I no longer shined. I looked around, and my sea was unpopulated. No other fishermen were around, the only movement was the gentle wake as you steered your boat away from me.

Now I swim in the seaweed, the day shadowy. I wish I was never brought into the air, where I could touch the sunlight and hear the sound of your boat's gentle rocking.
I've found I've forgotten how to breathe underwater.

Irresponsible Responsibility

The first week of November turned out to be a busy one. My planner overfloweth. It probably did not help matters any that the week started out with some airing out of issues. I had a notion these issues were lurking, but I didn't realize how much potential they had to turn ugly. (Thank goodness they are in relatively early stages.)
All week I felt like something was wrong (I skipped two classes this week. 17 yr old Kaleigh would've flipped out); I just couldn't put a finger on a specific cause. I was talking with my mother and I realized what it was: responsibility. I feel so overwhelmed with responsibility I just want to listen to slow jamz while playing Brick-Breaker in a dark room.

I feel responsible for my relationship with the boy: I finally hit a point where healing has taken a promising turn, but the whole thing still simultaneously hurts and irritates. I get frustrated with the fact that I get to take on the task of moving on, as I seem to be the only one affected. I feel jealous of other people, even ones who are my friends, and I feel like if I were to call Corps Escorts, they would send fish johnson out after me. Yes, that last part is a little dramatic, but I just feel like I was sought after, found to be lacking, then thrown back into the sea. An unpopulated part of the sea.

I feel like I'm doing a mediocre job in school and my job: my drive is gone. I'm actually doing pretty well in my classes, but I'm not putting in the effort I would like. I just do what I have to and go on. Same with RAing. I look at my coworkers and I think, "Wow. I'm the weakest link. Yay." I assisted with RA interviews for spring hiring and that didn't help my feelings of despondency. I observed a group process and thought the entire time that these kids were far better qualified than I...at any rate they were more jazzed about the job than I.

I feel like a crappy friend. There. I said it. My group of friends thinks I'm drifting away when I thought my ship was docked. I was wrapped up in my fog for a long time, and 'fun' just didn't appeal to me. I know for a fact they want the old Kaleigh back. I don't know how to accomplish this. In actuality, it is impossible. I've grown tremendously (for better and for worse) this past year, and I can't just "snap out of it" and go back to how I was before. I feel like I have to rediscover myself and work toward restoring my shattered confidence: naturally those pieces won't fit back together exactly. (This isn't to say I'm a different person or I was not being truthful in who I was this past year. It just means in the battlefield of life and love I was dealt a Boridino-esque blow and I'm having to limp along with dwindling supply lines while reorganizing.)

I just feel like everything is up to me. I know: such is life. I suppose I should invest in a helmet.

His eye is on the sparrow...

During a fitful late afternoon nap, I dreamed I was in a battle between good and evil.
Those fighting on the side of darkness were quick and elusive, with equally dark countenances and
bat-like wings. Those on the side of light were swift and valiant, with blindingly white and majestic wings.

Except for me. My wings were grey and brown, like an ordinary sparrow. I couldn't engage with the enemy; I wasn't strong enough. All I could do was flit around. I was scared, but the more pressing emotion was an overwhelming sense of frustration. My comrades were slaying the creatures with power, while I was using all my strength to stay one step ahead of their greedy clutches.

I didn't think much of this dream until tonight. I've been struggling lately, burdened with loneliness and longing. The thought creeps into my head that I'm invisible, and it's easy to believe. Who is seeking me? It seems as if no one is. I go through the motions of my day and stay up at night until my eyes can't stay open, that way I can fall asleep quickly and avoid those thoughts that only come at bedtime. It isn't true that I am never happy, that the sun never shines upon me. That warmth just seems to be a rarity rather than the norm: it feels like I've lost Kaleigh...that my confidence is gone like a robin in winter.

As a follower of Christ, my identity is supposed to be centered in Him. Sadly, I'm not very good at this. I flit around, trying to please everyone else, trying to get noticed, trying to gain affirmation from people. When all of this fails, as it is prone to do, I come back to Christ, a broken little bird. "'Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.'" Matthew 10:29-31
I have a tendency to dislike myself, and sometimes I think, "My problems are so silly. They are insignificant."  What a great promise to know that I am worth more than many sparrows. He cares for a common, plain bird: when I fall, He cares. He longs to be gracious to me, and to show me mercy. He cares when His child, a little red-headed bird who stubbornly holds fast to her desires, nurses a broken wing...a broken heart.

What a strange and wonderful and wild thing a life in Christ is! Every day I have two choices: to fly to Him or away from Him. Every day I have to surrender my desire. Every day I present to Him my broken wing, and allow Him to heal it. Of course, this will not be easy: I will see others who seem to have it all together: those who beat the air with brilliant and mighty wings. I will want to escape to the familiar dreariness of my ragged nest of selfishness. However, I know in my heart that He cares for me, and He will make all things beautiful in His time. He will feed me and cover me with His own wings. I know that His eye is on the sparrow...

and I know He watches me.