Saturday, September 24, 2011

The Hour


Before anything: a prayer. 
 God, I just ask that You move my fingers on this computer keyboard to express my heart just as freely as You did to learn to praise You on that piano keyboard. 
I believe You will.
Why? Only because I believe in You.
 And I mean it when that I believe in You.
I believe it now, more than ever.

 And I mean it, when I say, that I believe in Him.
 But I'm finding it's more that I simply 
believe 
God.
But I don’t want you to believe me.
 I want to show you.  
                                                                           
Overtime, He has shown me His glory and His grace,
 and I believe Him.
And in this hour, I'm going to write about it.
I'm going to write about it right here in front on this piano-- where I experience it.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In high school, years before I sat before this piano, I would've told you I "believed in God."
But I was also one of those girls who thought God was telling her to do a thousand random things that were probably all in her imagination. The girl who wore a cross around her neck to Jacobs High School every day. The girl who was always over-involved for her own good (literally- my own good is not much at all).

And now, I'm starting to think I learned this whole thing backwards.
Even though, at the time, it seemed pretty forward. 


Here's the Spark Notes of my story: 
"Accepted Jesus into my heart,” at a summer camp before I entered high school. Check.
Baptized my sophomore year of high school: Check.
Rarely missed church. More checks. √√√√
Recognized as a generally “happy” person. Check √
Told those around me that I “believed in God.” Check √
Led Bible studies. Check √

And at that time, 
all these checks, 
they never felt like checks. 
At that time, 
it all felt “real.” 
It all felt “natural.” But it did not feel 
the way it feels right now.
Why? 
Because, I believe that 
this is the hour
I first believed.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another check: the baptism of the Holy Spirit. √
But like I said, it didn't feel like a check.
In fact, it was the Holy Spirit that sent me on the joy ride that led me to writing this very blog.
And I can tell you with all my heart that nothing has felt more real than this new, fresh sense of His presence.

But the Spirit also led me to something else.
It led to me to this piano.

He took me to a 30 minute conversation about Ghana on the Market Square patio,
to a 20 minute conversation reuniting with an old friend inside the Market Square cafeteria,
to the warming up a Pumpkin Spice Latte in Union Grounds, 
to walking around the Commons,
to a piano in the Auditorium,
to Amazing Grace,
to belief.

All while I had a strict schedule of studying…
(Here He goes! Interrupting my ‘plans,’ again…
See ‘Surprised by the Spirit: Sustainability? in SAVEDpaper,
where it all started…)

But back to where this all started: an alluring piano.
I couldn't help myself.
I was (and am still) (re)learning how to play;
and when I found that the door of the Auditorium was open... 
I was excited.

The piano was much more fancy than the ones I'd played on before.
My eyes widened as I saw all the different buttons and knobs.
This was not your ordinary piano.
And I was about to find out that tonight wasn't my ordinary night, either.

“Visual Lesson”
Ah! Yes! This is for me! I’m learning!
I’m actually learning a lot… this you already know.
But as I scrolled down the list of songs,
I landed on “Amazing Grace.”
Yesssss!
**When the person who was teaching me how to play piano asked what song I wanted to learn first, "Amazing Grace" was the first to pop in my head. But I didn't tell him. I shoved it aside and searched for another song. It was a silly move, but now I'm glad. And I can't help but think learning this song was meant for a different time. 
This time.
A time when he wasn’t there;
and it was just me
and God.

I touched the screen, and I began to learn.
                                                              (Sidenote: Impressive right? If you haven’t
                                                                                     checked out this piano…
                                                                                           it’s a TCU secret. :) )
I began to learn-- s l o w l y.
First, note by note.
Key by key. 
The talking piano cheered me on...
"Keep practicing!"

The talking piano gave me scores...
0/100... 20/100... 60/100
S l o w l y, I learned.

Then…
Word by word.

A-maze
Ing
Grace
How
Sweet
The
Sound
That
Saved
A
Wretch
Like
Me.

Yes... 
A wretch like me…
The weight of my sin, a weight that took me years to actually feel,
I felt it there.
Though I'll never know how heavy that weight really is, I felt it more than ever before. 

It's always stuck in my mind,  what my “home-church” pastor, Bill Hybels, often said about this song. 
“You know you're a real Christian
when just the song Amazing Grace brings you to tears.”
Maybe it stuck in my mind because in middle school, in high school, tears never formed when I sang this song. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It took me a while,
a long while, actually,
for that impressive piano to teach me that song.
And, it may have taken me a while in the world’s eyes,
To learn the true meaning of that song.

But, all I know is,
after all those checks,
and through all those checks,
God was teaching me.
He took His time
so I could truly know
and I'm glad.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Twas
Grace
That
Taught
My
Heart
To
Fear
And
Grace
My
Fears
Relieved.

Yes. Fear, AKA: Cassie Behavior, had been relieved.
Not all at once, but it's been in the process of being relieved.
The way I felt after being baptized by the Holy Spirit: fearless.
A verse that has been my favorite verse of late,
also the same verse I had a conversation about today:  
“For you were not given a spirit
That makes you’re a slave again to fear,
But you have received a spirit of Sonship.” Romans 8:15

How
Precious
Did
That
Grace
Appear
The
Hour
I
First
Be
____.

The last note, it didn’t play.
It didn’t play?
Nope. No note. No sound. Nothing.
Kind of a rocky ending, you can imagine how it would sound.
Just not right.
Catching my attention, my mind shot back to a conversation I had just yesterday with the woman who disciples me. 

“We accept man’s testimony,
but God’s testimony is greater
because it is the testimony of God,
which he has given about His Son.
Anyone who believes in the Son of God
has this testimony in his heart.
Anyone who does not believe God
has made him out to be a liar,
because he has not believed the testimony
God has given about his Son.”
1 John 5:9-10

After dissecting these verses… we uncovered the truth that exists
in not just “believing in God.”
But, instead, to believe God Himself: 
         to respond with “I believe You, God,”
         as He asks us to trust Him and His testimony of His Son.
She urged me to speak about my eternal salvation with confidence,
in light of all He done, and despite all my questions still unanswered.
Why? Because John wrote those very words above,
“to you who believe in the name of the Son of God,
So that you may know that you have eternal life.” 1 John 5:13

I played it again…

The
Hour
I
First
Be
lieved.

The final note, it rang through the air this time. 
Believing, it was different this time.
The song was different this time. 
I was different this time. 

But as much as I practice this new life,
I'll never reach 100/100.
But maybe that's not the point. Maybe the point is that I'll continue to learn, all my life, how Amazing this Grace really is...

I sat in the silence of the empty auditorium, and lifted my eyes to meet my reflection in the black laquer finish…
A wretch like me. 
The words that, for years, sat in my mind
resounded and came tumbling down to rapidly wrap around my heart and 
I felt the tears fill my eyes.
and roll down my cheeks. 

And they're coming back again just writing this…

Maybe I didn’t learn it backwards,
Maybe the way He found me was quite forward, for me.
Maybe it was just right, for me.
Maybe it was perfect.

I believe it was.
In fact, I know.



Thank you &
Thank You,
Cass 

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Enjoy your day!

Once I read, “Happiness is not about what happens to you,
                            but how you respond to what happens.”
I agree.
You’re not making the best argument here Cassie,
if Bardin saw this, he would rip you to shreds.
I never thought I’d hear myself say this, or write this,
(& my AP Lang class would know why)
But, rip me to shreds, Bardin,
because there are one word two words that throw this saying off...
“you respond.”

In SAVEDpaper, I ended up speaking a lot about response. I believe this is different.
Yes, happiness is, at times, how you respond to things that happen.
But what if I told you that joy had nothing to do with you at all?
Well, I can also tell you, that if you would’ve told me that a couple weeks ago…
I would have believed you.
What? Nice argument, Cass. You’re not  getting anywhere…
Okay, you see, I would have believed you because it sounded super spiritual,
and, also because I would have thought that I was already experiencing joy.
Hey, one of my closest friends and fellow core leader in Fellowship of Christian Athletes in highschool,
even used "joy" to describe me in one word.
Now, I can tell you. I was wrong.
Thank you Josh, by the way, but I'm finding that
I was happy, but I wasn't experiencng joy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joy dwells deep inside of us.
Cool! Like the ocean deep? No.
Oh, so like Shakespeare deep? Not really.
Ohh, so like Dave Matthew’s Band lyrics deep? What!? No. Definitely not.

Maybe deep isn’t even the right word.
Depth connotes an ending.
Happiness has an ending. Joy does not.
Happiness is pretty. Joy is beautiful.

Let’s readdress the definition of the “Joy Ride” I threw up in my first post…
“Joy Ride: -noun
1. A pleasure ride, especially when the vehicle is driven recklessly or used without the owner’s permission.*
2. a brief, emotionally exciting interlude**”


Except, this joy ride I have been taken on of late, doesn’t have two definitions.
The first definition is the only one that really fits this feeling I haven’t had until now.
The second definition is one we have all experienced.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Before the joy ride, the car was just sitting there.
There wasn’t anything wrong with the car. No, not necessarily.
It was running! It always had to fill up, but it was definitely running- most of the time.
It had plenty of company! They came and they went, but it sure did have lots of company- most of the time.
It looked awfully nice! It continually needed a new paint job, but it looked the part- most of the time.

And, when it needed to fill up, no problem, it responded by getting gas.
Product: Happiness.
When the company left, or just got annoying, it responded by kicking them out, and finding someone else to satisfy them.
Product: Happiness.
When it felt insecure about the way its paint job looked, compared to everyone elses, it responded by going to the shop and got a new look.
Product: I think you get the point.
Happiness doesn’t last.
But I’ll get to that in a little bit…

Although I found so much truth in uncovering that difference,
what really struck me here were these* little* friends* of* ours* I found in the fine print…
On the bottom, it reads:


“*This isn’t really part of our philosophy
**This is.”


Why are they our friends? Because they tell us more of the truth.
We don’t really believe in joy.
But, I think part of that is because we don’t really know it even exists.
We believe in happiness! Sure, because we know it exists.
We have all experienced “a short, exciting interlude.”
A birthday party, a favorite TV series, your favorite dessert, a first kiss, a family vacation…
We’ve all had ‘em!
Or, we might even turn to what we think are "longer, more exotic interludes."
Drinking, substance, sex, appearance…
If it’s on this earth, you name it, it’ll give you happiness.
But we cannot mistake that for joy.
Why? Because, is anyone else noticing…
happiness is getting a little…
old?


To be fully honest, this has become one of the tougher posts for me to write.
But I think I’m finding that it's because joy is indescribable.
All you know is that when it comes upon you, it’s something you can’t avoid.
It’s something you can’t write down.
All you know is that it is joy that has made you wide awake.
It is joy that is giving you the headache because your eyes don’t blink as much as they used to,
               because you feel like you are finally exposed to His glory- daily.
It is joy that makes you write about your King at 4:00 in the morning- daily.
It is joy that makes you feel like you’ve just been reborn- daily.
It is joy that makes you feel like you are going to literally explode- daily.  
It is joy that makes you laugh at little things that weren’t really funny before- daily.
It is joy that makes you walk through the grass and not the sidewalk- daily.
It is joy that makes you wear clothes that don’t match and learn things from people you’ve never spoken to & subjects you've never cared about- daily.
It is joy that makes you smile and laugh as a bee approaches your face- daily.
But, it is also the joy that makes you cry- daily
               because the only thing you want anymore is for every person on this earth to encounter this joy.
It also must be the joy that has never made you feel more alive- daily
               while your body feels as if it is wasting away from the lack of sleep you have gotten.
But, this is all  just the overflow.
In short, it is joy that “wells up inside, just to say that, I belong to Jesus.”
                                                                                             –Show me Your Glory: Jesus Culture.

It is joy to know that the God you serve does not stop filling you up your tank,
and actually feeling it- not just some of the time.  
Daily. 

Because you see, you can avoid responding to certain situations.
You can’t avoid joy.
Joy is life. Joy is love. Joy is God.

Our God is not one who wants us to just be happy. It’s too temporal.
Because, happiness is up to us. It is how “you respond” to situations.
Our God wants to jump in our car an take us for a joy ride.
A “reckless” ride that happens to us, “without our permission.”

You can do all you want, but you cannot generate joy.
You can keep filling up on gas, in whichever form happiness you choose…
You can drive your car until it runs out of that same gas…
You can even get some person or multiple people to start pushing your car…
But until you let the One who created joy jump into your car,
and take you on the joyride of your life,
you just might never experience joy.
Lots of happiness? Absolutely.
But I wouldn't call it joy.

What gets the car going?
Nothing but Him alone.
More of Jesus. Product: joy.
It’s an unavoidable response to His glory;
It’s an unavoidable response to our risen King.

Thank You.


“Can you feel the joy well up inside?
Just to say that,
I belong to Jesus.”
-          Show me Your Glory: Jesus Culture

Friday, September 9, 2011

My Biggest Fan

My mom has always been my biggest fan.
She's told me so, of course.
But even more than that, she's shown me so.

In 5th grade, I wrote and illustrated a an itty bitty story, 
     she still has the copy.
     If you asked her to pull it out, she would know just where to find it.
In the 7th grade won a tiny writing contest;
     she still tells people to this day.
In the 12th grade, I earned a minuscule scholarship for college through an essay contest, 
     she not only told anyone she possibly could,
     but she could also show you the video tape she recorded of me reading the essay to the small audience that included people only present for those who won the other scholarships below me.

So, considering the audience,
my mom was not only my biggest fan, 
but she was most likely my only fan in the room.

But, that was never quite enough for me.
I always wanted someone else to be my biggest fan.
Cassie, that’s horrible. That’s your mother! She loves you more than anyone on this earth ever will!
Yeah, I know. 
In fact, I’ve always known that. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would write, but I would write my own way. I wouldn’t write quite confidently, either.
Writing with boundaries made out of fear, I would try to please and coax the opinions of others, while simultaneously appearing like I had it all together.
This way, I could do what I wanted, while acquiring the approval of others. I could have fans!
And I lived off of those fans: the twins from my church whom have been my friends since I entered school, my newspaper advisor who had to read my columns, and even my principal. They spurred me to keep writing, and I thank the Lord for them. Because, and I didn’t know this until now, but God was using them to cheer me on: whether they were aware of it or not.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But, back to my discontent.
I needed more praise, if I was going to really do this whole writing thing.
I still wanted more. It still got me down that my best friends never said quite much, and if whoever I was dating at the time didn't care to read something I spent time writing, and follow up with any form of affirmation, it would eat me up inside.
Would I tell them? No way.
Not only was that not Cassie behavior,
but I wanted unprompted, natural, ingenuous praise.
Little did I know, I was already receiving it.

It wasn't until God really started cheering me on,
that I have actually taken hold of this passion He has put inside of me.
How do you know? What was the difference?
Everything. I don’t just write when I feel like the time is right.
Now, every time feels right: whether it’s on my notes in class, in the notepad on my phone before I go to sleep, or even on my hands if I don’t have any paper around.
Before, I would only write when the Lord really convinced me with what I thought I was in the right time and in the right place.
Now, I can’t find enough time to write, and I will go great lengths just to be in an atmosphere that will allow the words to fall out of my mind and on to the keyboard faster.
Not Cassie behavior.

Congratulations, Cassie. So what?
 “Do not neglect the gift you have…” 1 Timothy 4:15
Grab hold of the passion He has instilled in you, and take a lesson from me:
Listen to the One who really loves you.
And, not only that, but the One who really knows you, too.
How do you know He knows you?
I love to write. And, I’ve never loved it more than I have since I’ve finally let Him cheer me on.
And, though I know I need the encouragement from the cheers of others,
the only voice I’m beginning to truly hear, treasure and actually crave…
is His.

Plus, if He really loves me- wouldn’t He want me to do what I truly love?
And, if He really knows me- wouldn’t He really know what I really love? Better than I?

In fact, if He really loves this much and knows me this well,
wouldn’t He love to see me to do what He knows I love?
I think He’s aching for it, actually.
Wouldn’t He cheer me on in the loudest voice He has, whether it be through people or through the tiniest flame I had in 5th grade, until I finally broke down and began listening to Him?

But, now that I think about it, maybe that flame wasn’t so tiny.

Maybe it hasn’t been Him who has begun to cheer louder…
Maybe I’m just deciding to listen

Thank You.

Oh, and thanks Mom. J
I love you, too.

Full Joy

                     
It's 4:00 in the morning, and I am waiting on a reply from sought council.
But, I'm learning that most of the time... Jesus says "GO."

"myfullride," I'm finding, is happening inevitably.
In a time when I feel like I can't get away from God, I feel like I can't get away from writing.
So, it is completely your choice whether you stumble upon reading this.
Alright Cass, that's what they all say... We all know you want people to read your blog...
Well, I'll leave that to my next post.
But, in short, 
for once in my life,
I feel like it's not really my choice anymore: whether I'm going to write or not.
And, I love it.
I think it's because I'm in love.

However, this love is not only giving me a full ride anymore.
For once in my life, it is giving me a joy ride.


Thank You.