"Who Am I?"
Deitrich Bonhoeffer
March 4th, 1946

Who am I? They often tell me

I stepped from my cell’s confinement

Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,

Like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me

I used to speak to my warders

Freely and friendly and clearly,

As though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me

I bore the days of misfortune

Equally, smilingly, proudly,

Like one accustomed to win.

 

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?

Or am I only what I myself know of myself?

Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,

Struggling for breath, as though hands were

compressing my throat,

Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,

Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,

Tossing in expectation of great events,

Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,

Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,

Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

 

Who am I? This or the other?

Am I one person today and tomorrow another?

Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,

And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?

Or is something within me still like a beaten army,

Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.

Whoever I am, Thou knowest, 0 God, I am Thine!

You Being You.

You are not your faith.
You are not your ministry.
You are not your music.
You are not your doubts.
You are not your resume.
You are not your schedule.
You are not your solution.
You are not your rank.
You are not your talents.
You are not your ability.
You are not your energy.
You are not your health.
You are not your strength.
You are not your paycheck.
You are not your position.
You are not your desires.
You are not your temptations.
You are not your sin.
You are not your exhaustion.
You are not your appearance.
You are not your leadership.
You are not your control.
You are not your own.

You are His.
You are unique.
You are loved.
You are liked.
You are trusted.
You are believed in.
You are desired.
You are desirable.
You are chosen.
You are included.
You are holy.
You are blameless.
You are understood.
You are valuable.
You are rich.
You are light.
You are salt.
You are washed.
You are sealed.
You are purchased.
You are you.
You are God's.

Be willing to be that.
Be willing to be.
Be willing.
Be.

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven”—Jesus. Matthew 18:2-4

Children seem to walk out their freedom far more readily than most adults. I was reminded of this recently, while taking a swim at the local Y and paddled into by flapping arms and a flood of personality. She gave no invitation and offered no formal introduction, but did choose to take immediate interest in my day, as well as my pink shaded swimsuit. To me, however, Lauren’s introduction could’ve best been titled, “Christ in a flower-suited costume.” Her unassuming intention and innocent sincerity lit a blaze on my callous heart. But if I’m honest with you, this wasn’t my initial take on our meeting.

I had just finished a hard swim and was anxiously en route to my busy afternoon. Wading my way toward the pool stairs, however, I was rudely interrupted by this intrusion of sorts. Seemingly out of nowhere, a little five-year-old invited herself into my territory, as if an expected guest, or long lost relative. Her high pitched voice blurted an overly joyous greeting, while my internal time clock forced itself to an abrupt pause. Who did this little diva think she was, and what would it take for her to exit my path? As disheartening as this latter recount may seem, it didn’t take long for the former impression to take blaze. Lauren’s thoughtful words and swelling joy could’ve stopped a freight train, let alone my Scrooge-like selfishness. The shower stalls weren’t going to vanish, I realized, and it would probably be good for my OCD-self to be a few minutes late.

Lauren and I didn’t solve any of the world’s problems, and in fact, didn’t even touch on any of our own. We simply reflected on the shining sun, chatted about her hyper-color swimsuit and marveled at my converging freckles. Yet I can honestly say those minutes with Lauren were some of the most refreshing I’ve ever known. She cared little that our conversation stood in broad daylight, or that any onlooker could’ve overheard, much less joined in. She had no qualms about our colliding space and prioritized full attention on me, even to the extent of dismissing her floating toys. To Lauren, every passing moment offered a gem of opportunity. Every passing word sought an option to love. And this is just how I imagine Jesus to be.

Lauren’s willing availability, humble joy, and unashamed love are no doubt engraved on heaven’s invitation. Each, in fact, assumes a prerequisite in discovering our identity as God’s children—in discovering our dependence in the grip of a heavenly Father’s hand. And so I am dually challenged today, both by the childlike faith of Lauren, as well as the challenging call to embrace my familial placement.

Father, You are good and Your love endures forever. You are the Savior, the Redeemer, the Righteous One. You are the Shepherd, the Lord and Prince of Peace. And God, maybe most profoundly, or even most abundantly, You are the perfect Father. So we ask You today to let us be Your children. Teach us what it means to live as children again, loving unconditionally and living unashamedly. Lord, let us influence and invade territories for the sake of Your name. Let us interrupt protected settings for the sake of Your love. And God, let us become humble children, embraced and confident in the loving arms of our perfect Father. Amen.

There was an absolutely exquisite sunset here this evening. For some reason, the lights of dawn and dusk seem more marvelous in California than anywhere I've ever lived.

Rest well,
abbie

Hey friends,

Returned this week from a Passion07 planning meeting in Atlanta. For those who've not signed-up, a) you need to...it's gonna be sweet and b) you need to do so soon...there's a price increase at the end of this week. See www.268generation.com for the scoop.

Other than that, I'm back into study mode, much like most of you. Exciting, challenging, exhausting, growing and enjoyable!?...actually it is for me, most the time. I'm a nerd.

My program consists of a lot of solitude, prayer, time in God's Word and writing, so I'll warn you up-front, this won't be my most vocal season on the site. Hit me up whenever you want though. I'll never tire of hearing from you. What classes are you taking? Who ya datin'!? How was rush? Are you in season right now? Who's your roommate? (I heard from a freshman at Pepperdine (name will stay silent) who's already having trouble with her roomate. Doesn't the honeymoon period last till Christmas break!?)

Working on a couple manuscripts, of which I'll keep you posted. Multnomah has been bought by Random House Publishers (Waterbrook is the Christian branch), so we're working through some logistical "stuff" (and may be doing so for awhile).

Back to the books,
Talk soon!
abbie

I the Lord do not change. Malachi 3:6

I must preface this by saying I’m not typically a blind date kind-of-gal. In fact, I’m really not the dating-kind-of-gal, but a situation came up lately where I trusted the set-up personnel and figured anyone could stand as interesting for a couple hours. So I spoke to the guy beforehand and we planned to meet at a local coffee shop. We narrowed our means of recognition to a physical description, me being 5’5 with red hair and him being six feet and brunette. I arrived on-time and was relieved to find this description waiting outside, so surprisingly confident, stuck out my hand and said,

“You must be Jon.”

He smiled broadly and with a somehow encouraging tone of spilled pity replied,

“Ummm, no, I’m actually not. I guess you’re on a blind date?”

Clearly embarrassed, I nodded and sheepishly explained the situation. We laughed about it and I ended up stepping inside to find another six foot, brunette guy, who happened to be my real blind date. It made for a natural icebreaker, I guess, and we ended up enjoying a fine evening together. The point I’m going for here, however, has far less to do with my blind date, and more to do with our blind faith as Christians. This date experience for me entailed putting my faith in a lot of things, one of which was a physical description. I was banking on the imaged expectation of a six foot, brown haired guy. The problem was, this image was highly relative and clearly susceptible to change.

Bottom line—we put faith in a lot of things. Sometimes they’re obvious, and maybe even necessary outlets, such as money, jobs, or people, while other times they’re more vaguely placed in images, dreams and even expectations. And granted, I was speaking above of a blind date, verses a blind faith, or placing of my hope in something unseen, but I still can’t get around the similarities. I still can’t get around the majority of my life being blindly placed, or trusting in relative and changing means.

Everything on this earth is up for change. Therefore, everything I trust has the potential to alter, fade, or even fail. I trust my car—it can die. I trust my friends—they will fail me. I trust myself—I often times fail me. The lesson doesn’t seem to be one of ceasing to trust altogether, but does lend itself toward an awareness of what we’re trusting. And just as important, what we’re not trusting. When all is said and done, I want my trust to fall on something that lasts—on someone who is unchanging. As I journey through the blind dates of life, I’m increasingly convinced that this lasting find is Jesus Christ. Alone.

In case you're perusing the radio this weekend, here are two live interviews:

*KFUO ( St Louis): Living Jubilee
Friday, Sept 1st
11:30am CT
25 min

*WGRC: The Matter at Hand
Tuesday, Sept 5th
11:00am ET
30 min

Have a safe and fun Labor Day!

Sorry for the hiatus in writing! I was out-of-town for much of the last week, spending a glorious weekend traveling to Newport, RI and then driving with my sister to the mountains of PA to surprise my mom for her b-day. Good times. LOTS of travel time for little "people time," but every moment was worth it. My mom's dad (i.e., my grandfather) was in PA already, and when my "from PA" grandparents found out about the surprise, they decided to spontaniously make the two-hour trek. Very, very special. Sitting on the porch with all three living grandparents, my mom, sister and a handful of relatives, was quite breathtaking...and will likely never again offer an encore.

Smith family tales aside though, I'm getting excited for you and me, both, as we head into these next few weeks. New season and new semester, each of which impregnates loads of new beginnings. (I've just left a short-film titled: "Most." It's a work out of Poland that represents God in more of His fantastic brilliance than I've experienced in long time...though it's done in subtitles and makes no mention of His name. Imagine that. The pursuit of excellence (in art, or whatever), marks phenomenal and clear representations of the Gospel. Without help. Without WWJD bracelets hanging from the tag. I love that about Him.) Anyway, I'm at that point when the actual 'start' of classes will be a refreshing change from all the talk...you know what I mean?

Anxious to hear of your move-in tales. Keep your head-up and write when you can. I always love hearing from you.

abbie