loving humility is the strongest of all

At some thoughts one stands perplexed - especially at the sight of men's sin - and wonders whether one should use force or humble love. Always decide to use humble love. If you resolve to do that, once and for all, you can subdue the whole world. Loving humility is marvelously strong, the strongest of all things, and there is nothing else like it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

So, this is what Mr. Dostoevsky has to say about humility. I guess I might be understanding this... maybe.

In this whole season of dependence, I have been overwhelmed with the sight of mankind's sin. My own and those I share with humanity. It seems to suck the life right from your marrow. All my courage and stalwart strength turns to something like mush that lands with a splash at my feet. It's hard to know how to fight if the enemy is so large. I guess Dostoevsky has something right here - loving humility is marvelously strong and there is nothing like it.

There is nothing like it because we are not capable of it. But, oh that the Lord would grant us a taste that we could share. That we might know that the most marvelous display of loving humility was the completed task of His sacrifice.

Dependence

A couple months ago, I found myself re-discovering dependence. Psalm 63 is a treasure my heart never tires of finding.

O God, you are my God. Earnestly I seek you.
My soul thirsts for you and my body longs for you
in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

I remember reading these words and asking God to be my one source of life. My bread; my water. I asked because I knew it was Truth – Jesus came as Sustainer. But, I also asked with a privileged assumption.

I am mostly a regular person. I love coffee in the morning. I get lost in the pages of good fiction. I enjoy debate. I crave ice cream. Call it regular. Call it normal… whatever it is, I get pretty comfortable in the realm of regular. Every once in awhile, I’ll venture outside regular into the Caroline de-centered universe. I glimpse this worldview and see I am merely a part and not the whole. But I often end up back at the coffee counter, housebound by a novel, or with a coffee-flavored, coconut-topped ice cream in my lap.

And this is my privileged assumption.

See, when I ask God to be my only bread and my only water, I expected the regular with a few less coffees. I expected the regular with a few more challenging days. I expected to navigate the shoals with a bit of an effort and then tell stories of arduous adventures. I expected to have the luxury of admitting faults and confessing failures at my convenience and (ashamedly) benefit.

In the past two weeks, God has given exactly what I have not expected. I have been stripped bare of regular. The privileged assumption that the Lord would teach and discipline around my schedule was shattered when I abruptly stormed the borders of the regular realm into the unknown territory of true dependence.

A nice evening turned sour when I caused a car accident on South Congress and William Cannon that totaled my car (which was on loan from my parents). An affordable and amazing living situation became impossible when I had no transportation. My "personal space" became unreasonable when I humbly accepted my co-workers' offer of their living room couch. A simple errand brought more tears when I hydroplaned in my co-worker's vehicle and firmly met the curb. A nice Christmas shopping cushion quickly depleted after repairs. This turn of events has sent me back to be refined by fire.

All these years, I have felt compelled to pair the Lord’s story with what I have to offer. I needed to be able to say, "See, I am a giving person. I make sacrifices for other people and good things are said of me. I take people out to coffee and leave thoughtful cards and messages at the right time." I needed to be able to make God look good.

For the first time in my life, I have nothing to offer.

The Lord is answering my prayer for Him as Sustainer by opening up the most closed places; my failures laid bare in my professional and personal life. The LORD’s story is indeed every bit as glorious as when I first met Him, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the presence or absence of my offerings. I am finally seeing that He can stand alone. His story and glory need not be paired with anything in my life - it's enough that He died and rose again. It's enough that He paid the price of sin.

It's got to be enough, too. Because right now I literally have nothing else to offer.

I submit that life in the regular realm is lame. Regular is mundane mediocrity; the sloppy seconds with enough lackluster charm to woo a trance. C.S. Lewis wrote that we are like the little boy who would prefer to play in mud puddles over taking a vacation at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

A vacation at the sea is a glorious exodus from the realm of the regular, muddied puddles and onto the shores of divine dependence.

Related writings (nothing I say hasn't been said before):
Salieri and Studentdom
Good: revisited
Community

Again

I come again, again, again
With failure close like skin
And maps to dead ends
litter my streets

I let go of cardboard dreams
And fix-it schemes
that storm my mind,
Filled like wine with new skins

A bursting, uncontained and unrestrained
My circle of influence shrinks
In ignorance uncapable
and unsearchable a dream

To repair and mend the evil,
Borne in sin
I come again, again, again

Not a drop of mercy earned or owed,
heart heavy and head bent low
Mystery and nonsense shroud
in bold, sufficient stripes I'm found

Again, again, again.

at fault

There's not one bit of blame I can throw for this one. It's all on me.
Yet, the Lord continues to teach me - using my folly for His glory.

After taking my students out to dinner to thank them for their hard work on the Service Project committee, I found myself driving on a busy road. I was admittedly distracted, looking for William Cannon Street, when I noticed the taillights illuminate the back end of a Ford. Into it I crashed, with airbags exploding and windshield breaking. It took a few moments to understand what had happened, but when I did, a scrolling marquee raced through my mind, "This did not just happen to me."

But, it did happen. No one was hurt. But, there were some dents and scrapes. I'm hoping GEICO is as endearing as their commercials...I'm still waiting on the english muffin, gecko man, but I haven't heard back.

Lessons: there are many. The policeman assured me this "happens all the time." But, for all the times that's been said, I couldn't get the scrolling marquee to leave. I was convinced these kinds of things just don't "happen to me." I was sure I had gotten over the young-convinced-I'm-invincible phase, but I realized otherwise as I wandered about aimlessly and waited for a ride at the corner 7-Eleven. What a night!

The Lord has provided. That is indeed the tale to tell. Not only was I safe, but He has provided and continues to provide ways for me to go to work, church, and even some social functions. I realize I deserve no sympathy, which makes my heart all the more grateful for His provision.

my brothers; my heroes

So, my brother is graduating from basic training this weekend. Over the past four months, I have come to respect and love my brother more than I ever knew how before. He's not my little brother anymore. He is growing up; a man of God that desperately wants to seek God's design and glory in his life. Beyond words and explanations, I have been learning from this man. I have read his letters and listened intently on short, sporadic phone calls to hear about his encounters with the seekers at his base.

I see the Lord softening and refining him in a way that reveals who God Himself is. If you had asked James who he was before he left for basic training, he might have given you more than you wanted to hear. He is opinionated, knowledgeable, and openly invites discussions and debates alike. He had an opinion about everything. Though I'm sure he is no less opinionated, I know my brother has grown in the confidence of his faith. He is firmly established and rooted in the love of Christ (Eph. 5), where he gladly places his trust.

Whether friendly debate or heated defense of his faith, James is ready for any conversation. I so admire his willingness to 'fight like a man' in the arenas of faith and morality, when his peers are completely convinced he is wrong.

I know he will seek the Lord in his plans for college next Spring, but I also know that he will treasure every minute with family and friends until he leaves.
I praise God for him!

My brother Will casts a giant shadow, though you wouldn't think it to look at his stocky, wrestler frame. William is a man of his word; a man of integrity; a man of wisdom. I've known this for awhile, I guess, but just lately I’ve taken interest.

In his subtle (sometimes silent) way, William delights in what is good. And he really delights – ask anyone who has been around to hear him giggle! Everyone seems to know he is invaluable for any project one might attempt - whether it's shingling a vertical roof or organizing groups of rowdy kids or fixing anything with an engine (we’ve all at some point taken advantage of his mechanical abilities). But, press on he does: determined to make each project a new challenge and success. He works hard and requires little gratitude, making his efforts reflect his devotion to the Lord.

For the past couple summers, he has completely donated his time to growing a small rural camp in order to bring the message of the gospel to children in that area. Every single counselor would take a bullet for him, but they would have a hard time stepping in front of Will to get there. He is as protective as he is inclusive; and I’ve learned much from the brotherly love he gives to anyone he meets.

Maybe my most treasured blessing in William is his character. He has been patient with me even in my foolishness. He has encouraged me in the midst of confusion. He has called me out when I least want to hear it.

What a blessing he is!

My brother Samuel is a coach; not for a job, but as a lifestyle. After mixing his Creatin drink when I was in 8th grade, I remember his praise meant the world to me then and still does today. He is 4 years older than I am, but when I followed his footsteps to Holland, Michigan, our friendship started to take root.

I’ll admit he was a bit rough around the edges when I was growing up, but now that I’m living in Austin, I realize how wonderful it was to be in the same town (Holland) while I was in college. I remember a conversation I had with him my freshman year at Lemonjello’s (the famed coffeeshop college hangout). He was telling me about meeting Bethany (now my sister-in-law) and the way God had prepared his heart. He said, “Care, I was finally to the point where I was okay with just me and God. I knew that He would provide, but I wasn’t actively searching for anything. … and then I met Bethany.”

I remember the excitement of meeting Bethany and my respect for my brother grew because of the person he had found to share his life with… she was amazing! Being a part of their lives impacted my life in a way I’ll never forget. I lived with Samuel and Bethany the summer after my junior year while I worked two jobs in Holland. I got to watch their struggles and joys – and I experienced their great, big love.

Samuel has committed to ‘coach’ by pouring into everyone in his life: his wife, his family, friends, students, and co-workers. I still call him for his coaching every once in awhile!

So these are the brothers God blessed me with - and oh how blessed I feel!
Look next for "my sister; my sanity" coming shortly:)

Too much of a good thing: Lima beans, sugar-free Nips, and free time

I'm not sure how the exact adage reads, but I can tell you from personal experience that you can have "too much of a good thing."

Sure, there are some things you could never have too much of: a surprise on your doorstep, sweet words from a friend, hot air balloon rides. But, I've found out that some of the things I love most are exactly the things that can cause severe indigestion and misdirected weekend days.

I suppose an explanation is due.

Anyone who knows me even slightly is familiar with my deep, green love for lima beans. It all started when I was very young. Baby lima beans were among the home-grown treasures my grandma pulled from her garden behind the Econo Lodge. I spent many a weekend checking in guests at the front desk, skipping and cart-wheeling in the long hallways, swimming in the pool with my (secretly purchased) first two-piece swimsuit, and playing among the growing things around back near the gazebo. The strawberries, green beans, and lima beans found an avid admirer in my rosy cheeks and bright eyes. I would often sneak spoonfuls straight from the simmering pot before we sat down for dinner. I think we called it "taste-testing."

Since I've left home, I've searched for ways to bring my Iowa home to wherever I am. Lima beans have become a solid standby.

So, when I moved down here, I searched the markets and frozen sections for my baby limas. I finally found them and last weekend I cooked a delicious pot - all for me. I ate little else that Saturday and every bite was delicious...
and then I started to feel funny. Sunday it seemed like my system was acting a little strange. It was Wednesday before I felt like my body was back to normal. Did I learn my lesson? Well, I'm still eating lima beans. But, I'll think again before making it my only food source.

A similar thing happened after my birthday last year, in Chicago. Only that time, my grandma had sent my favorite candies: sugar-free coffee Nips. I love the little gooey things! But, within the course of a couple days I ate too many. My stomach was making weird noises and my body was saying "slow down on the sugar-free business, girl!"

In some ways, a similar thing happened last weekend with a good thing most people know as 'free time'. I don't usually have much of it and that's generally okay with me. My mom and I both love being busy and feeling needed. So, when the opportunity comes for free time I am so flustered I don't know what to do with it. The result is not indigestion, but laziness. Instead of tackling postponed craft projects and engaging in some much needed cleaning, I watched football and ate lima beans.

Don't get me wrong - I enjoyed another Saturday rooting for some of the greatest college football of all time.

I guess what I'm saying is: when "good things" are material, then too much is the same as too little. Neither one satisfies.
I wrote awhile back about revisiting my definition of 'good' (august 8, 2007). I realize I need a healthy dose of heavenly good to remind me just exactly why I'm here. The heavenly good should really be the only thing informing my food and free time choices.

Just between you and me, I think heavenly good choices will still include lima beans and free time.
I will just pray for grace to know limits:)

flight delays

I’m sitting here in Omaha airport waiting for my connecting flight to Minneapolis en route to San Antonio, where I’ll head north to Austin. I’m not too worried about getting back; I’m just glad I came.

I was home for just slightly over 48 hours and every minute was wonderful! At first I was a little thrown off by the unseasonable heat and humidity, but this morning I woke up and gladly donned a sweatshirt before entering the crisp morning air.

I recently wrote about my deep love of the Midwest… there’s a well-worn groove that runs in my marrow that leads to and from a geographic home. And returning to a deep love is like breathing in familiar air. And breathe I did. A big, Texas-sized breath with the people of home and the landscape of my growing up years.

The primary reason for buying this last-minute ticket formed as I was listening to a sermon on a CD two weeks ago. The pastor of my home church announced that God had called him to a church in St. Louis. Despite the surprise, shock, and sadness, I felt a need to encourage and support his decision, as well as express my gratitude for his insistence in preaching the whole counsel of God. Worth a plane trip? Absolutely yes.

Yesterday listening to Terry's sermon, “The Sovereignty of God in the Life of the Believer,” my gratitude only swelled. With all my heart I say, "YES! It's about the LORD!"

In a conversation that morning with my dad, we talked about discovering who God is. My understanding grows as I get older and especially as I seek out fellowship in community with believers where I live. I have learned to expect and insist that my shepherd guides in the ways of the LORD.

Partly because my flights are confused and partly because airports give me headaches, I'm going to end this before I should. I will try to come back to this this weekend and write with the credit it deserves. Until then..