Looking back through drum corps and indoor percussion.

Leave a comment

I’m sitting on the deck outside my parents’ house in northern California, while my brother and sister-in-law read. It’s another clear, beautiful day in the bay area.  The coffee is the perfect flavor for company on this lazy morning, and I’m drinking in the last of my three day break between summer school sessions, a break much needed and absorbed.

It’s hard to believe that it takes so much coordination to get all of us in one place these days.  Joey and Sally flew out from Indiana, and I flew up from L.A., thankfully during a time when I didn’t have that much school to worry about and when I could make use of doing work from home.

As life moves forward it’s always interesting to see how all of the details get more complex and the simple things, like seeing your only brother, can become months of planning and hoping for the stars to align.  Nevertheless, I am very thankful that we do have the resources to be able to make visits like this happen.  I know how lucky I am.

Normally at this time I would be sweating up a storm, getting a great tan, loading a semi, pushing equipment, riding a charter bus, passing out on my seat partner (miss you!) and playing music all over the country.  It’s weird that I am not there, but I know that I needed to focus elsewhere this summer.

I miss playing music terribly and often think about how unlikely it is that I will be able to play again.  I am very thankful for the years of instruction I have recieved and all of the hardwork that I put into the craft of playing the marimba.

I have learned what it means to work hard.
I have learned that the hours spent perfecting each detail on my own, is noticed and that the labor is worth it.
I have learned how to always be prepared.
I have learned how to always be early.
I have learned the importance of communication.
I have learned how to find joy in the little things.
I have learned that it is important to remember that it is just band:)
I have learned how to perform and give the audiences an enjoyable performance.
I have learned the importance of priorities.
I have learned the best techniques for getting the most seamless, solid tan ;).
I have learned the importance of sunscreen.
I have learned how to shower and get ready in 13 minutes.
I have learned how to completely change wardrobe without getting naked.
I have learned how to love people more uniquely while spending every hour of every day with them.
I’ll add to this list as I think of them:)

Thank you Kelsey and Jason for pouring so much into me during high school and driving me to my very first drum corps camp :).  Thank you for the staffs of Glassmen, Bluecoats, RCC and the Blue Devils, for continuing to shape and mold me into the performer I became.  I love all of you very much.

High school

Glassmen 2007

Bluecoats 2008

RCC 2009

RCC 2010

The Blue Devils 2010

RCC 2011

God of every detail.

Leave a comment

Read Numbers 27:12–23; Deuteronomy 34:9

I am always amazed to hear how the Lord uses His Word in the lives of His people. I don’t know your circumstances. I don’t know how God intends to use this episode from the life of Moses in your own life.

It may be that these words fall on a very hungry heart. Or perhaps you have been strengthened and encouraged with the thought that you’re very special to God, that none of His children are insignificant. Or maybe you’re engaged in the awesome task of finding a man or a woman for a position that carries a great weight of responsibility, and you’ve been reminded that you are dependent, more than ever, on God to locate His Joshua. Or perhaps you are that Joshua, and you’ve been asked to accept a responsibility broader than you ever dreamed.

Whatever your circumstances, I want to remind you that our heavenly Father cares about areas of your life that would seem insignificant to a distant deity. He’s never too busy to hear your hurts, to wipe away your tears, to whisper words of encouragement, and to put His big shoulder under your load. He’s the God who cares about the details.

As I write these words, I’m praying that our sovereign God might be a very personal comfort to you this week. I pray especially for you who are wrestling with loneliness and discouragement. Even though you’re surrounded by people, deep within there’s an ache. Friend, God can meet your need as only He can, even as He did in the heart of Moses just a few hours before the great man’s death.

If you’re God’s Joshua, you don’t need to worry that you’ll be forgotten. You don’t need to worry that the shadow of your predecessor will eclipse you and your ministry in the years to come. In fact, you don’t need to worry about anything. If you’re God’s Joshua, you’re right where you ought to be. Remind yourself that He is sovereign. He has everything under His control. He will have His way in His time, for His glory, which includes your life, your position, and your future. Worrying over any of that is a waste. He’s got every detail covered—every one.

Think of it this way: there’s no such thing as God’s being almost sovereign.

by Charles R. Swindoll

Facing the Wilderness.

Leave a comment

This is such a wonderful reminder of the beauty that comes from going through the wilderness and facing course winds.  I pray that I am humbled, molded and strengthened into the faithful servant God intends me to be.

Read Exodus 15:22–27

As we consider Israel’s first days in the wilderness, perhaps we should remind ourselves of where the Hebrew nation is in Exodus 15. They began their journey in the land of Goshen. If you have a map of that area handy, you might want to glance over it as you pinpoint their location. The Red Sea (or Sea of Reeds) is north of the Gulf of Suez. They crossed that sea, then began a south-southeasterly journey toward Mount Sinai. But before they arrived at the mount of God, they reached the wilderness of Shur in the northernmost section of the Sinai Peninsula. That’s where the cloud and fire led Israel into the wilderness, with the shepherd Moses out in front of the flock. It was a vast expanse of desolation stretching south to the wilderness of Etham.

So that’s where the Hebrews were. But why were they there? If God took the people through the Red Sea, couldn’t He take them immediately to the lush land of Canaan? Of course! If He was able to part the waters, and enable them to walk on dry land, and deliver them from the Egyptians, wasn’t He also able to move them swiftly to the borders of milk-and-honey-land? Absolutely! God can do anything. If He can take you and me through our conversion, He can hasten our journey across this earthly desert and swiftly deposit us into heaven. No problem . . . but He doesn’t.

Why does God put us through wilderness experiences before Canaan? For one thing, He wants to test us. That’s why God led Israel into the wilderness, according to Deuteronomy 8:2: “You shall remember all the way which the LORD your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you, testing you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not.” (Read that again . . . only this time, slowly.)

God puts us in the wilderness to humble us, to test us, to stretch our spiritual muscles. Our earthly wilderness experiences are designed to develop us into men and women of faith. Let’s face it, our spiritual roots grow deep only when the winds around us are strong. Take away the tests, and we become shallow-rooted, spiritual wimps. But bring on the wilderness winds, and it’s remarkable how we grow as our roots dig deeply into faith.

by: Charles R. Swindoll

Ache.

Leave a comment

Pain.
Can’t breathe.
Memories haunt.
Pictures swarm.

How much longer?

Each day is a battle.
Each night is a war.

Hurt.
Can’t speak.
Tears cloud.
Sickness forms.

Build me up.
Break me down.

You’re gone.

I’m here.
But not for long.

Seek a Freshness of Vision.

Leave a comment

“One of the tragedies of growing up is that we get used to things. It has its good side of course, since irritations may cease to be irritations.

But there is immense loss when we get used to the redness of the rising sun, and the roundness of the moon, and the whiteness of the snow, the wetness of rain, the blueness of the sky, the buzzing of bumble bees, the stitching of crickets, the invisibility of wind, the unconscious constancy of heart and diaphragm, the weirdness of noses and ears, the number of the grains of sand on the thousand beaches, the never-ceasing crash crash crash of countless waves, and ten million kingly-clad flowers flourishing and withering in woods and mountain valleys where no one sees but God.

I invite you to seek a ‘freshness of vision,’ to look as though it were the first time, not at the empty product of accumulated millenia of aimless evolutionary accidents (which no child ever dreamed of), but at the personal handiwork of an infinitely strong, creative, and exuberant Artist who made the earth and the sea and everything in them.”

–John Piper

You Are His Concern.

Leave a comment

Wow… I am continually humbled by a Father who knows where to meet me where I am. Sunday morning devotional that was exactly what I needed. I hope it blesses you as much as it did me.

Isn’t God gracious? We have a Lord who knows our hearts, knows our thoughts, and knows our fears. When Moses had left Egypt forty years before there were those who sought his life, he was probably featured at the top of the Egyptian version of The Ten Most Wanted list.

Naturally, Moses had not forgotten. He was a family man now, headin’ west with the wife and kids, and that potential danger must have been weighing on his mind. It was part of the reason he had been reluctant to go in the first place. But when he finally made the decision to embrace God’s will, he determined to make the journey in spite of those concerns. He told the Lord, in effect, “Lord, I’m going to trust You with all my heart. I’m not going to lean on my own understanding. In all my ways I’m going to recognize You and let You take care of the obstacles.”

So he set his face toward Egypt and began putting one foot in front of another, in obedience to God. Before he stepped outside the borders of Midian, however, the Lord did something for His servant. He said to him, “Oh, by the way, Moses, you remember all those who sought your life in Egypt? Don’t be anxious about them. They’re all dead. They can’t hurt you now.”

What a sight that little family must have been as they headed down the desert road. His wife, Zipporah, was on the donkey, the two kids were cavorting on ahead, and a few of the family’s belongings were probably tied on the donkey’s back. They were on their way, leaving a steady job, family, security, and the familiarity of their surroundings. Midian wasn’t much, but it had been their home for forty years. And now they were on their way to Egypt—on their way to the Exodus. What faith!

Have you stepped out on faith like that recently? Have you made a move, followed the nudging of God, into realms you wouldn’t have even dreamed of five years ago? He will honor your faith as you trust Him in that kind of walk. Those who remain in the false security of Midian never get to experience what Moses experienced on that winding highway to Egypt—the sense of moving in the strong current of God’s will and plan. Press on!

by Charles R. Swindoll

———

Heavenly Father, oh how You know my heart, and You know my fears, God.  Thank you for this reminder this morning.  Thank you for reminding me that my fears aren’t going unnoticed.  God, I trust You, help me continue to live each day in accordance with Your will, and help me step out in faith and head towards the Egypt in my life, God.  I pray for strength and faith like Moses.  I will keep pressing on, Heavenly Father.  Hold my hand, guide me.  Thank You for who You are, and who You promise You will continue to be. I love you, and thank You for loving me.

Fear.

3 Comments

I am afraid. It’s that simple. I am absolutely terrified.

——-

I keep myself busy to the point I can hardly function, going going going.  Don’t get me wrong, I love being busy; I love having things to do; I love growing in knowledge and spirit; but sometimes, I just get so overwhelmed with where life is taking me, rather, where I am taking my life.

I have such a burning desire, a deep heart-wrenching desire to make an impact in this world.  I want to so badly.  I want to leave college prepared to do everything I can to make this world a better place, to bring a little bit of God’s Kingdom to earth.  I want to free children from bondage, women from trafficking, families from poverty, and my impatience is driving me crazy.

That is why I chose law school.

I thought, what is the next step after undergrad that I can take to be that much closer to action, that much closer to change, that much closer to justice? I want to know my boundaries, and I want to know exactly what kind of action I can take to accomplish my goals. Law school it is.

But I’m afraid.

I am driven. I am passionate. I am confident, but man…I am afraid.

I am afraid of not getting into the school that I want to, because I desperately want to get into a Top 20 school.

I am afraid of not being prepared going in.

I am afraid of being isolated.

I am afraid of moving, yet again, to a completely new state with no family or friends for support, while going through the most academically rigorous and emotionally taxing years of my life.

I think most of all I am afraid of making it through law school and being alone. This is the hardest for me to admit…but if there is anything that I have dreamt of being since I was very little, it was a mother.  I have always wanted to raise a family, and I am so terrified that my drive for school and for my future, will leave relationships on the side-line.

This probably sounds so ridiculous. I am 21-years-old, and I have felt so much weight on my shoulders to figure out how the next ten years of my life is going to pan out.  It certainly does not help that I go to a school that has been called the “Bridal Institute Of Los Angeles.”  So many people getting hitched, it makes me sick. Seriously.

——-

Oh God, how I need your strength and your love. I know you can give me courage to conquer all of my fears, God, please help me relinquish control and lay my fear at your feet, God.  You promise to comfort those in need, and your Word says you will never leave me nor forsake me, God.  Please, wrap your arms around me, help me feel your presence.  You are all I need, God, you are all I want. Please come into my fears and give me peace and patience.  I know you are in control and you are orchestrating the details of my life, God, please keep me from trying to rearrange your story, because I know the storyline you have laid out for me is fruitful and promising. 

God, I realize a lot of my fear is due to my lack of trust and lack of faith, God. I pray that you continue to break me down and humble me until I am all yours, God, because that is what I desire.  In everything, God, I want all glory to go to you.  You hold my days in your hands, you know the numbers of hairs on my head, and the number of years in my life.  I pray for intimacy with you, God. I know you can bring me peace in my fear and comfort through these life decisions. I love you, God. Thank you for being my Rock and my Salvation, and a loyal, dear friend.


Through it all.

Leave a comment

I need to let go, and let God. I am continued to be humbled and put in a very vulnerable place.  I know that I will not make it through these next two weeks, if I do not come to the point of surrender.

I struggle with trying to control every detail of my life, and just when I think I can, Christ brings me to my knees and reminds me that His strength is so much greater than mine.  It surprises me that I continue to have this battle of control even though He has proven Himself more than worthy of guiding my life. What am I waiting for? Let go, and let God.  Come on Lydia, let go, and let God.

Read this devotional that met me where I am this morning:

Read Exodus 2:16–25

You’d better believe that Moses, though tucked away in a corner of that wasteland, heard the latest news from the travelers in caravans making their way up from Egypt through the Midian desert. When Moses learned the Hebrews were crying out, his heart must have turned over within him. But unlike before, he rested and relied upon God. He didn’t try to organize a rescue party. He didn’t slip back into Egypt as an assassin or saboteur. Not him! He’d learned that lesson.

Do you know who it is who keeps erecting all those unrealistic standards in your life? Do you know who keeps raising the bar beyond all hope of clearing it?

It’s you. You do. And so do I. Our Heavenly Father doesn’t. The psalmist tells us, “He knows our frame. He remembers that we are dust.” We think we’re finished because of our failures, but God says, “No, you’re just getting started. Press on!”

Our problem isn’t that we’ve failed. Our problem is that we haven’t failed enough. We haven’t been brought low enough to learn what God wants us to learn. We’re still trying to redeem Egypt single-handedly.

So what are you trying to prove? Who are you trying to impress? Why don’t you step off that treadmill and just be yourself? Plead with the Spirit of God to prepare you, then use you, however He pleases, dark side and all. You’ll be amazed how that takes the pressure off.

This very moment, you and I are the recipients of a gift from One who loves us just the way we are: warts, cracks, failures, and all. Since it is a gift, you might as well open your hands and receive it. Look, there—that’s your name on the tag, just underneath the ribbon.

The gift is called grace.

By: Chuck Swindoll