more heart, less attack

be the light in the crack
be the one that's mending the camel's back
slow to anger, quick to laugh
be more heart and less attack

--bear and bo, who pen inklings of me and put them to beautiful music

this year, i will live these lyrics. that's my only goal. i have been at college for four days now and this is all my heart can think about. i want to be noticeably different. not in the "oh look at that freak" kind of different (though i'm sure some will think that), but the "wow she is so sincere" kind of different. the "i want what she has" kind of different. the "maybe the reason she is genuine is because it's not her it's Jesus" kind of different.

matthew tells us that we are to be salt and light, bringing flavor and radiance to an otherwise bland and dark world. it seems to me that i need to invite everyone into my city on a hill, not just the ones that appear to be good candidates. each and every person that knocks on my door should be welcomed with open arms because they are a child of God.

"...let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father." --matthew 5:16

it is so easy to look past the people that are a little too clingy, a little too nosy, a little too partyish, a little too loud, a little too quiet, a little too good. what if Jesus had looked past you? what if He'd said "well anna's too insecure and always feels like she needs a friend. why should i die for her?" i need to clean my spiritual glasses, 'cause lately they've been foggy. rain would do me some good.

i stuck my hat out
i caught the raindrops
i drank the water
i felt my veins block
i'm nearly sanctified
i'm nearly broken
i'm down the river
i'm nearly open
i'm down the river
to where i'm goin'

come lay 'em down

I began this journey walking, but I know now is the time to run.  With every step, every heartbeat, I'm growing closer to my destination.  I find myself in a full-on sprint, though my heart is weary and my body is aching.  But I continue on, knowing what lies ahead is well-worth the temporary discomfort.  The dust beneath my bare feet flies up, covering my ankles with soil.  My hair whips behind me, moving to the unwritten rhythm of the wind.  Trees lining the path fly by in a blurry haze, distorted objects of green.  But none of that matters because I can hear it.  The sound of rushing water moving swiftly over smooth stones that rest below its surface. A symphony so strong and bold, yet gentle and lulling simultaneously.  It's the sound of restoration, of new life and cleaned slates. That's when I see it.  The river in all its glory, glowing in the sun's light, reflecting all that lies in the water found here.  I fall to my knees, feeling my misery leave almost instantly.  Cupping my hands, I fling the cool liquid upward, soaking my face and drenching my shirt.  Though unacknowledged at first, there are people all along the river bank, submerging themselves in the renewing water. Every one of them is different, not a single one like another.  To my left, there's a man.  He's sporting an expensive business suit, but even so, he's down on his knees, like me.  His short-cropped brown hair is dripping, and his face is covered with water droplets. That's when I realize he's crying.  Despite the silence of his tears, I can hear the hurt that each one releases.  Every failure, every heartache is mirrored in his eyes.  "Father," he cries toward heaven. "Why did you take her from me?  Why..."  I long to comfort him, but I can't bring myself to interrupt the conversation that's gone unspoken for so long.  So instead I turn to my right to find a girl of six or seven, dipping her feet in the river, thanking Jesus for her new pup named Sammy.  Her skin is the color of coffee doused heavily with creamer, and her hair is braided tightly in perfect little rows.  "Jesus," she whispers, looking towards the sky.  "Thanks for answering my prayer.  Sammy's my best friend and I love him so much.  I promise to feed him every day and play with him and even let him sleep in my bed sometimes."  I smile, her words warming my heavy heart.  She makes it seem so easy, talking to Jesus as though He's her best friend.  So I begin to pray.  "Jesus," I start, unsure of what to say.  "I... I'm not as strong as people think.  I try and I try but I just keep messing everything up and letting everybody down.  I can't do this by myself anymore."  As soon as those words leave my lips, my soul heaves a sigh of relief.  I then glance to my left to see the young man is no longer sobbing, stumbling over his words held in.  The little girl is still lost in worship, radiance beaming from her small face.  Standing up, my breath is taken away. Thousands of people, rich and poor, young and old, black and white, are now lifting their eyes to the heavens.  There is no pain, no sorrow, no tears.  Just a desperate desire for Jesus.  As I turn to leave, I hear someone whisper, "It's more than the river."  "I know," I reply.  "It's much more."

Come down to the river
Come and let yourself in
Make good on a promise
To never hurt again
If you're lost and lonely
You're broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down
--Needtobreathe, Come Lay 'Em Down

Come unto me all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

All my love, Jesus [matt 28:11]