Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

big thoughts


why am I scared of what God will take away if I daily lay myself down?
what's it that I'm gripping, 
hording for myself? 
what do I want control over? 
selfishly planning according to my ideas and agendas. 



honestly, these questions go deep. 
so deep that I want to push away, 
fearful and un-trusting, 
avoiding eye-contact. 

they humble me from pride. 
 strip me of my exterior. 

and yet I still push. 

I still think God might rob me of joy and goodness. 

I think he will convict me of sin I'm comfortable with. 

I think I just might have a better idea for my life then him.

^^that?

it's all stupid. 

our Daddy isn't a thief of joy.
he hates what separates us from him. 
and with him, we can completely fulfill the life we were designed to live. 

Sunday, August 28, 2016

i am a gossip


it started out as a harmless, giggly conversation.
A silly moment. 
And then all of the sudden my friend looked at me and said,
"Elissa, you do gossip a lot." 

I choked.
I was the only Christian in that room
The only one with the responsibllity to be a bright light in a darkened world.

"It's not nessicarly a bad thing..." She went on.
But the words cut down through all the layers and hit my core.

I am a gossip.

These words taste like vinegar comming out of my mouth.
They rock around in my brain,
Tumbling into every thought.

They cut through my crap and cockiness in which I stood before God last night.

For I am a gossip.

And I hate it.
I hate this ugliness inside of me,
This sword I have deeply misused.

I hate that I'm seen as a gossip to some non-Christian friends.
I hate that I bring shame to the name of Jesus on this earth.
I hate it.

For I am ashamed of this sin.
I am naked in my inadequacies.
And aware of my failure.

And Jesus knows.
He knows me as I sit with my two little gossip buddies,
Yet he loves me fully.
He knows me as I keep record of wrong,
Yet he loves me endlessly.
He hears me tarnish his gift,
Yet he still loves me.
Perfecly.
Completely.
More then I could ever ask or imagine.

For our God loves us so greatly that he will never change the depth of his love.
In any moment.
In any action.
In any situation.

For we, my brothers and sisters, are loved by a very big God.
Bigger then any shame.



Thursday, March 10, 2016

When All Time Stands Still



It was a grey car ride. Melancholy filled my lungs as I sat in my pink pants and tunic shirt, staring out the window. It was mostly quiet, for no one really wanted to say anything. As we approached the Seattle, my mom began putting words together. Filling us in on what to expect. “...this is probably it…I think Abbie, Ralph and Cathy might be there...think about anything you want to say…” As we walked briskly up into that little house, my legs brushed the lavender bushes I had spend hours trimming with kitchen scissors. Making sachets. Dread hung in the should-be-cheerful, yellow living room. The kitchen chairs were pulled out in order that we could squeeze. I ate a lot of teriyaki food in those chairs. My Grandma came out from the bedroom wiping a tear. Her daughter, whom she had spent 43 years caring for, was dying. Years spent in doctors offices, conferences for parents with children with special needs, staying up at night. The official diagnosis was Rett Syndrome. My aunt was the longest survivor, the first in America to be diagnosed. Us Weisz women like attention. But not that day. The second I walked in a felt like I needed to leave. My body felt like it was being crushed by a encompassing weight. I sat stiffly, with my ever present ballerina posture, staring blankly at the petite brown recliner. I made her throw pillows to match that chair. I came home from the drugstore armed with nail polish and gave her the best pedicure. As everyone made small talk about who-knows-what, I simply sat. Clenching every muscle subconsciously. Us girls left to grab some lunch. The oxygen felt good. And we returned armed with smoothies. I still remember what I ordered at Jamba Juice. Shuffling into the should-be-cheerful, yellow living room, I sat again. And then, I went in. We went in. 
Into that tiny little bedroom, I stood. I didn’t know what to do or say, or even if I should say anything. I remember running my hands through her hair. Rachel taking a picture or two. My daddy standing against the wall, talking about his sister. I don’t know how long it was. I don’t remember if I said anything. I don’t remember if I kissed her forehead, or said, “I love you.” I don’t remember. Finding myself out in the living room, my brain in complete standstill and all emotion frigid. Then they asked if I wanted to go in again, one last time. Say goodbye. And in that moment, all of the heaviness and sorrow collapsing in around my heart, I lost the battle. I said no. I found myself sitting in the hard, wooden pews at Westside Presbyterian Church just over a week later. Thinking about what I had to say about my aunt and the impact she had on me. In the moment a choose not to tell her those things, whether I needed to say one last goodbye to the woman who told me so much without ever opening her mouth. That day I choose to keep quiet about the impact of a beautiful soul. 
And today, will I lose that opportunity again? 

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Our God is in Control


This is not how it should be

This is not how it could be

This is how it is


And our God is in control



When we finally will see


We'll see with our own eyes


He was always in control


And we will finally really understand what it means


So we'll sing holy, 


holy, 

holy is our God

While we're waitin
g for that day

When we started this journey

But this is where we are


And our God is in control


There will be sweetness forever


When we finally taste and see


That our God is in control


And we will finally really understand what it means
So we'll sing holy,

 holy, 
holy is our God


While we're waiting for that day


We'll keep on waiting for that day


And we will rise


Our God is in control





This is not how it will be

And we'll sing holy,
 holy,
 holy is our God

This is not where we planned to be

Though this first taste is bitter

And we'll sing holy,
 holy, 
holy is our God

We're waiting for that day

(Holy, holy, holy) x2

Our God is in control

(Holy, holy, holy)

Our God is in control

(Holy, holy, holy)




-Steven Curtis Chapman