Rain in the Desert

It's raining today, and I realized how quickly the weather can turn from dry, dusty and warm, to cloudy, rainy and cold in this part of the world. I'm thankful these weather patterns aren't predicted to last long. If I didn't have such an awesome crew of people to share the indoors with, today definitely would not have been as fun as it panned out.

I thought I would extend this lazy Monday to the blog world and share with you a poem I wrote recently.

It's nothing too extreme. It's about the Jewish man I happen to be in love with.


Mirror Moon


With hot breath on a window pane 
I hear you whisper in my ear,
"Come to me, My Darling Love.
I'm near! I'm near! I'm near!"
Like heavy breath into my chest, 
A trickle down my spine,
My lips could form not one request
As You put Your hand in mine.
"Come here my Love," He whispers to me,
Sweetly at my side,
"Give me all your past regrets, 
Your darkness, lies and pride.
I'll rip it out and tear it up,
Expose it in the light
Until the deepest, darkest fears
Are tiny, toothless lies.
A brimming cup, I'll fill you up
Beyond all great delights.
Come with me, My Darling Love, 
We'll fly away tonight."


Oh how Your Love shines bright! 
What can I do tonight
But set my sight on You?


In open air, a moon hung low
Sings a distant melody.
Mirror Moon, she mirrors me,
Crying out our destiny.
A shining light in the dark of night
Cloaked in pure humility.
She sings a song about a light,
With every midnight glow.
The light she shines a product of 
The Father Sun she knows.
What am I but made of dust
Just as much as she?
Made to shine my Maker's light
For eyes in dark to see.


Oh, how Your Love shines bright!
What can I do tonight,
But set my sight on You?


Your hand in mine,
A Love divine
In life divinely made.
With one look in Your eyes I know
I'll never be the same.

Beauty Departments, Language Barriers, and God Saw It Was (More Than) Good

Beauty.

Like most women, that's one of those words that's haunted me for most of my life.

Beauty products...
Beauty queens...
Beauty school...
Beauty magazines...

You turn on the TV and there's a bombardment of ads telling you to buy so-and-so's beauty enhancer from so-and-so's beauty department. You go to Barnes & Noble and there's an entire isle dedicated to books with titles like "How To Be the Most Beautiful You" and "Beauty Tips for Dummies." Young girls enter contests to see who has the most beautiful walk, the most beautiful talk, the most beautiful face. Scholarships are even given to the most beautiful winner. Magazines. Blogs. Grocery stores. Commercial breaks. Even Facebook... Everywhere we look there is a constant bar being raised, a silent question being asked between the stocked rows of lipsticks: Are you beautiful enough?


The world tells us we're not, no matter how hard we try, and even if we happen to reach the nearly impossible goal of being a "beautiful person," the world tells us that it's only temporary, and our privileges of being members of that category are revoked upon achieving old-age.
"Because," The World scoffs, "Old-age is definitely not beautiful. Ask any anti-wrinkle advertiser."

I find this ironic, because it was a very old, very wrinkly, hunch-backed, no-English-speaking Japanese woman who showed me otherwise.

In my 22 years, I've struggled with the same love-hate relationship with my body that seems to be an epidemic in our society. Like most young girls I wondered if I was good enough, doubted that I was pretty enough, wrestled with insecurities, and managed to find more things I didn't like about myself than those I liked. Growing up I felt awkward about my no-so-flat stomach, not-so-small chest, and not-so-tall body. I looked longingly at the small-chested, six-packed, slender-legged bikini models hoping, wishing, and doubting that I'd someday look that "beautiful" too. Twenty-two years, despite the remarks from loved ones about how beautiful they saw me, I looked on my body in disdain. Twenty-two years, I wished for a different shell - hoped for a different physic - dreamed of a me that was, in my mind, "more beautiful" than the me I had. Twenty-two years, I believed the lie that beauty is something to be striven for, rather than something that just is.

But a couple weeks ago, all that changed.

Well... I suppose the change started with my walk with God, but honestly it took YEARS for me to actually accept the truth that I had been made the way I am, exactly the way I am, for a divine reason. That same exact sentiment was probably printed on your coffee cup this morning, but just because you drink out of it doesn't mean it's a fundamental truth you really believe. So, after years of hearing "God made you exactly the way you are" I finally believed it about three weeks ago while visiting a friend in Japan.
I woke up that morning, looked in the mirror, and started thanking God for all the things about myself that He had given me - even the things that, in the past, I had hated.
"Lord, thank you for these freckles."
"Lord, thank you for my curves."
"Lord, thank you for this skin you've given me."
And the best part was I actually meant it. For the first time - ever - I was truly thankful for the body I had been given. I wish I could describe to you the freedom that followed, or the warm sensation I felt in my chest, or how I walked around that day lighter than the years before, like a massive load had been lifted off my back, but I just don't have the right words.
About an hour later I reached a crosswalk on my way to meet some friends and I became so overwhelmed with the presence of God that I almost fell over. There was a little, old, Japanese lady beside me, doubled-over with age and shining bright blue eyes waiting to cross the same street. While caught up in surprise at the presence of the Holy Spirit, she tapped me on the shoulder, looked up at me with a brilliant, wrinkly smile and said, "Ka-wah-ee!"
Pointing to my face, she said it again, "Ka-wah-ee! Ka-wah-ee!"
Patting her face, then pointing to mine, definitely implying I'm talking about your face.
I looked back at her with a puzzled expression, fumbled around the scarce Japanese I knew - telling her "You're welcome" rather than "Thank you" and then correcting myself, while definitely implying I'm sorry I'm an American and I don't know what you're saying.
I knew that this exchange wasn't an insult. The smile on her face was too warm, the look in her eyes was too soft, and the feeling growing in my heart was too good to be born of harsh words. Without knowing the details, but somehow knowing something deeper, I managed to sincerely tell her thank you before parting ways at the other side of the street. The woman continued to smile as she hobbled away, and I continued on my path not knowing exactly what I'd just encountered.

I found out later that ka-wah-ee is Japanese for beautiful.

I asked God later, Why? Why did she say that? Why me, when there are a million other young, pretty girls walking around?
And I heard Him answer, Because you are.

I believe that this woman was a gift to me from God for finally accepting who I am. It was icing on the cake, the closing chapter of a book, the cherry on top - to the morning of revelation I received about being thankful for who I am.
It was like Papa God saying Good job, little one. Like Jesus saying I love you! You truly are beautiful! And like the Holy Spirit saying I'm here!
All at the same time.

And it reminded me of the pure, holy, agenda-free love our God has for His people, His Bride.

The entire book of Song of Solomon speaks the love story of God and His Bride - His love story to us.
Though it's only eight chapters long, you could spend an entire lifetime peeling back the layers of revelation of His love in between the words. He says of us You are altogether beautiful, my darling, and there is no blemish in you. (Sgs 4:7) and He also says How beautiful you are, my darling, How beautiful you are! You're eyes are like doves behind your veil... (4:1)
And then later He says Who is this that grows like the dawn, as beautiful as the full moon, as pure as the sun, as awesome as an army with banners? Referring to us, His church, walking in the fullness of what we have been given.
These are just a few examples of how He lavishes his love for us in written word. The rest of the book He talks about the beauty of His Bride, and the Bride responds, rattling off all kinds of detailed characteristics of our beautiful God.

I also found out recently that the bible translated from the original Aramaic texts (which is the language Jesus spoke when He walked the earth) reads the word "beautiful" instead of the word "good" when talking about creation in the first chapter of Genesis.

So instead of saying And God saw that it was good. It says:

And God saw that it was beautiful.


Which speaks a lot more to me about the love He has for his creation.

He says we are beautiful.
We are ka-wah-ee.

So my question is: If God is so adamant about telling us how beautiful we already are, why is it we feel like we have to become more beautiful? Besides, wasn't God the original creator of beauty in the first place?

And what exactly was it that woman saw that was beautiful? I know Asian culture really loves American features. It's a fad there to get plastic surgery on their eyes to "look more American" - something I find saddening and a little bit creepy because it makes them look like porcelain dolls - So was it my actual facial features, or did that woman see something more? Was she really seeing my face or was she seeing something beyond my skin? And was it just coincidence that it happened to be the first day I've ever loved the body I've been given?

Well. I don't know all the answers, but I do know God well enough to know not to believe in coincidence.

Contrary to her culture and social norm (the Japanese are known for not being sociable people), this woman reached out to me - a total stranger - just to tell me I'm beautiful.
With no agenda.
Nothing, not even a single word, expected in return. Simply out of the pure intent of wanting me to know, she took a moment out of her day to tap me on the shoulder and change my life forever.

And, that, to me, is beautiful.

If Grace is an Ocean, We're All Sinking.

I was meditating today on the ridiculous love Papa God has for me.
I don't really have words to say, and the words I do find for Him come out of my body in the form of tears. Though that's more descriptive than anything I could write, it doesn't make for a very good blog post.

So I'll just leave you with this video instead.

A Torn Veil

"The Veil is Torn"

The torn veil to which I'm referring in this blog's namesake is referencing the moment when Jesus gave up his spirit on the cross, and "At that moment the veil of the Temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and there was an earthquake, with rocks splitting apart." (Matt. 27:51)

To most, the veil ripping is seemingly insignificant after reading about an epic earthquake and rocks splitting in half and whatnot, and if you continue reading the next verse, it says that holy people who had been dead came back to life in their graves! So how is a little curtain tearing in two uphold more importance than an incredible miracle like the dead raising?

As it turns out, this little curtain was a very big deal.

The word used here for "veil" in the original Hebrew text is parokhet, which means curtain, but specifically it refers to the one in the temple that divided the Sanctuary (or holy place) from the Holy of Holies (or the most holy place) where the Ark of the Covenant was kept. The only person allowed to enter the Holy of Holies was the high priest, and that was only once a year on the Day of Atonement when he would go atone (or make amends) for the sins of the entire nation with a blood offering. On top of it all the high priest would have to fast, pray, purge, offer sacrifices and separate himself from society for the week beforehand, following a rigorous set of laws written specifically for that preparation, and if he performed anything incorrectly or forgot a step he would be sentenced to death.

Extreme, much?

Maybe.

You have to understand that when a person enters the Holy of Holies he is entering the very presence of God. At the time, the high priest was the chosen mediator between God and the rest of the people, and if anyone besides the high priest entered the Holy of Holies they would die instantly because God cannot look upon sin, His eyes are too pure to see evil (Habakkuk 1:13). The veil was put up to make it clear to man that he can't carelessly or irreverently come into the presence of God. 

Because the holiness of God is not something to be trifled with.

So with that said, we have the veil: God and all his glorious presence on one side, God's people, full of sin, on the other, and the only way through was with a lawfully clean blood offering. For hundreds of years this was the procedure. This was the norm.

But then something happened.

Jesus.

The fulfiller of over 400 prophecies. The Raiser of the dead. The Healer of the sick. The Miracle Worker. The Prophet. The Anointed One. The Messiah. The Lover of the people. The Word made flesh. The King of the Jews. The Lion of Judah. The Son of God. The Jewish Man with no sin...

The lawfully clean blood offering.

Broken, beaten, and dripping with blood, He was hung up on the cross for everyone. Not just one nation, but all of them.

And suddenly the veil was broken.

The Holy of Holies was exposed.

And God's people, now coated in the blood of His Son - the only righteous man who ever lived - for the first time could step into the presence of God boldly, without lawful pretense. (Hebrews 10:19-20)

His blood was enough to cover everyone's sin - past, present, and future. 

And now, instead of seeing a people full of sin, when God's eyes are upon us He sees the blood of His Son. He sees the righteousness of Jesus. He sees the conqueror of evil. He sees the irrevocable blood contract that was signed at the cross.

Why?

Because He loves us.

It's irrational, I know, for a God so perfect to be in love with a people so imperfect. But since when has God been rational? He creates us, gives us everything we could ever need or hope for, and what do we do? Turn our backs on Him. Over and over and over again. It happens countless times in the Bible.

But every time He comes back and waits outside our door like a lovesick prince wooing an oblivious princess - waiting for that one moment, that one glance from us that takes His breath away.

"With just one glance, with one bead of your necklace you have carried my heart away!" (Song of Solomon 4:9)

Then He gives us the ultimate gift - His beloved Son - to die for everything we've ever done wrong or will do that's wrong, just so we have the access to His presence and complete freedom from the powers of darkness. We can now step into the Holy of Holies and have relationship with the Lord, rather than laws. Freedom, rather than strife. Life, rather than death. Eternal salvation, rather than condemnation. Joy, rather than pain.

So this torn veil is more than just ripped fabric.

It represents a whole new kind of freedom.

A whole new kind of love.

An entrance to the Holy of Holies, not just once a year, but for the rest of eternity.

And I think that's pretty rad.

Well now that that's over with...

I finally finished the layout for this blog and it took so much time and I feel so exhausted that I completely forgot the words of what I was going to blog about in the first place! Oh, irony...

Well, I don't want to leave you empty handed, so I'll just post the lyrics of the song that's been playing in my head all day. I know that's somewhat of a cop-out, and I'm not necessarily making the best impression with my blogging efforts so far, but that's the best I've got at the moment, and I can't really think of any better words to leave you with than this.

"This chest is full of memories

Of gold and silver tears

I’ll give you more to own than

All of this

And I’ll give you more than years

For you were once a child of innocence

And I see you just the same

Your burdens couldn’t win or

Lose a thing

Oh, I’d tell you once again

But you’re always on the run

 

Slow your breath down

Just take it slow

Find your heart now, oh

You can trust and love again

Slow your breath down, just take it slow

Find your smile now, oh

You can trust and love again

If you leave I’ll still be close to you

When all your fears rain down

I’ll take you back a thousand times again

I’ll take you as my own

I would sing you songs of innocence

‘Til the light of morning comes

‘Til the rays of gold and honey cover you

In the sweetness of the dawn

But you’re always on the run

 

You’re not alone

You’re now a part of me

You feel the cure

I’ll feel the toil it brought you" 

- Future of Forestry, "Slow Your Breath Down", Travel II