These days grow colder; perfectly represented in sunsets of blues and purples. Sunrises boast waves of clouds shimmering hopes of snow storms and flurries.

The outlines of countries burnt to retinas attached to the immovable body enslaved to a job well paid in currency, while all joy in spirit is spent needlessly.

TVs hung from the ceiling by a string thin enough for floss, while vines grow in and out of the eye sockets of its unsuspecting victims still entangled with needs of fictitious reality.

Piano keys and dots measured in millimeters catch attention from the voice speaking these written words in English accent, embarrassed by this strange admittance.

The dark is here now and it shows no sign of letting up until morning, lest I run the length of the world to catch up with the sunrise.

Oh goodness! This really makes no sense.

I can't sleep. I can't even think about sleep...which is weird considering my late night conversation with a Ms. Leah Shaw had me heading home at two AM and work had me up at six.
Less than four hours of sleep is becoming a habit. Complaining about not ever sleeping has also become a habit.

But right now? Right now I can't sleep. Jesus has awoken me in a literal physical and spiritual sense.

I can finally smell the fragrance of His offering to God. I can smell the sacrifice of God to God for us. I can't quite see the Cross with untainted eyes, but I can hear the faint sound of His footsteps leading Him to Golgotha.

Let me take you through a few passages that, quite literally, ripped my flesh off.

I can't stand your religious meetings. I'm fed up with your conferences and conventions -I want nothing to do with your religion projects, your pretentious slogans and goals. I'm sick of your fund-raising schemes, your public relations and image making. I've had all I can take of your noisy ego-music. When was the last time you sang to Me? Do you know what I want? I want justice —oceans of it. I want fairness —rivers of it. That's all I want. That's all I want.
Amos5.21-24msg

It hits me when God says "When was the last time you sang to Me?" I mean, really? How many times do we sing for the person standing next to us in worship, or the person on the street corner, or the attractive specimen across the room, or the worship leader we hope will come up and give us a job by how oh-so in love with Jesus we are (don't act like this doesn't happen), or...or...or. Mmm. I'll get to this thing called a flawless performance in a bit...

It's amazing to me how easily I can sing loud during worship and how rarely I sit at the foot of the Cross realizing Whose blood drips on my white wedding gown.

It seems too often we will come in with a parade proclaiming "WE CAN HELP YOU!" And then we get bored, or tired, or our finances diminish, or our finances even flourish, or we just stop caring, or...or...or. How can we give a glimmer of hope to the hopeless when we ourselves have no hope for them? Get some dang hope because Jesus LIVES IN YOU and He is the hope of salvation and all joy! Plus...we are YOUNG! We have energy to spend. Not many of us have terribly high levels of responsibility upon us right now. A majority of you who read my notes are A.) Single B.) Just out of high school C.) Working part-time D.) Going to school part-time. So what are we waiting for?! Our chances to pass us by until we're tied down with responsibility and can no longer afford to go?

I'm reminded of Lord of the Rings when Bilbo is talking to Gandalf and he says, "I want to see mountains, Gandalf! Mountains!"

Well, "I want to see mountains, Jesus! Mountains!"

...uhm bethany, look outside your window...

Not those type of mountains! I want to see mountains of love. Waves of mercy. Pillars of sacrifice. Thunder booms of praise. Lightning strikes of Jesus. Tornadoes of grace.

But as much as I want to see it happen (and I'm sure some of you feel the same way) just think of what Jesus has to say! I mean, He's tired of us coming into places with a bottlerocket of surprise and leaving the people more abandoned than before. It hurts Him more than it hurts the people because we are GRIEVING His children and turning them off of the Gospel.
These are our religion schemes, these are our pretentious slogans, these are our religion projects.

These things make God vomit.

I was thinking about Moulin Rouge and the wonderful soundtrack all day today and then it hit me...

"How wonderful life is...now you're in the world"

Notice the "you're" is not capital.

Granted, I'm using quite the secular movie to describe God's love for us...but what can I say? God is outside the box and I'm not going to limit Him to Christian music in order to woo me.
It's on the same level as "Do you know the way you move Me?" because it seems so easy to take that song and make it about God, when in fact it's about us.

...it's always been about us to Him. We've ALWAYS been in His gaze. From the beginning of time, to the birth of His flesh, to the crucifying of His life, to the redemption of our sins. It's always been about us. He's always been about loving us and making us the center of His attention -the apple of His eye.

But when we catch that, He says "Okay, now give it away."

I mean, it even says religion God accepts as pure is taking care of orphans and widows. Justice. Seeking justice for whatever unfortunate event that has taken place to make orphans and widows as such. Orphans. Widows. Fairness by not seeing them, or anyone for that matter, melt under burdens or judging them for ANYTHING.

I think by God saying "I want justice, I want fairness" He's saying "I want you to freaking LOVE one another"

Oscar Romero was a genius with his words. Cheers to an onslaught of quotations!!!

"Peace is not the product of terror or fear. Peace is not the silence of cemeteries. Peace is not the silent result of violent repression. Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is duty."

"We must not seek the child Jesus in the pretty figures of our Christmas cribs. We must seek him among the undernourished children who have gone to bed at night with nothing to eat, among the poor newsboys who will sleep covered with newspapers in doorways."

"When the church hears the cry of the oppressed it cannot but denounce the social structures that give rise to and perpetuate the misery from which the cry arises."

"Even when they call us mad, when they call us subversives and communists and all the epithets they put on us, we know we only preach the subversive witness of the Beatitudes, which have turned everything upside down."

I'm also reminded of the verse in Psalm51 that says:

Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice.
Psalm51.16-17

A flawless performance. Wow. You know, there might be some of you who have been called to be an actor or actress in the center of Hollywood. But when you come to Him, He wants your mask to be removed. All of us act. It's easy. In fact, it's probably the easiest thing we do. We don't want to be vulnerable. We don't want to work through our weaknesses...because that would mean actually confronting them!

Going through the motions looks similar to this:
Wake up. Eat. Go to work. Eat. Go to school. Watch TV. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.Never to have a break in the chain.

Sure, God wants us to wake up with purpose (both in a physical and spiritual way), eat to our health, go to work to serve, go to school for...well...a edumacation I reckon, and uhm...skip the TV, then rest...but God wants more out of us than a monotonous routine. He wants our adventure as much as we want our adventure. He wants us to realize we're on a mission, and He wants us to spend every waking moment accomplishing that mission through His mighty work in us.

Whatever that looks like for you, I'm not sure. Obviously God holds that answer for you and you alone. Only when you act it out will we KNOW you're serious about whatever mission God wants you, specifically (enter name here), to fufill.

It hit me in The I Heart Revolution movie when this man says "I honestly don't think people are called. I think we see something wrong with the world and we go to meet that need."

I've put this off for far to long

...Ahh! Stop with LOTR quotes!

But honestly, I've put off being who I'm meant to be.

My journey begins now.

Watch what God does, and then do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with Him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of Himself to us. Love like that.
Ephesians5.1-2

In my head, my name has been anything BUT my name.

I just saw "Label" in a very curvy lettering and couldn't help but think Dabot (pronounced Day-bot or Dah-boit)...and I couldn't help but think about living in Africa and how I'd change my name to that.

THEN I've recently been obsessed with my hebrew name and all the forms it comes in. Beit-Anyah, Bet t'eina, and my personal favorite Beit-te'enah.

I'm fully prepared to start ONLY answering to Beit. I love that. I like it. I want it.

Speaking of wanting...

England, oh England. How I long for thee. Along with Uganda. I'm pretty postive I'm going to spend a huge chunk of my life traveling across the world.

People tell me I can't do it. That I must be settled. Living job to job, city to city is an aimless existence.

Yeah right. Living in one place, doing the same thing all day, every day...THAT'S aimless.

With talents, most people are told to be "well-rounded"...well...that's not a good thing to do, in actuality. You should find something you love and that you're tremendous at and focus on it.

For me, it's music. So I want to do a music DTS in England.

But then again I love to write (this blog is not a showcase of my work, mind you) and I love to help. I want to go through two DTS's with YWAM and then go through an Addictive Behaviour Counseling School one year after that.

Gosh. I want to do so many freaking things that I feel like I'm crazy for doing...but I just want to get out and do it.

I want to photograph the world.
I want to write the world.
I want to love on the world.
I want to sing.

Fuego de Dios

It takes little effort to put out a candle; if you can breathe on it, and the fire goes out. You can blow on it, and the fire goes out. You can pull an Aragorn and put it out with your pointer finger and thumb.

It takes much effort and teamwork to put out a forest fire. If you breathe on it, it spreads. If the wind blows, it spreads. You can attempt to put it out like Aragorn, but you’ll just end up with a burnt finger and possibly pre-death cremation.

How many of us live as candles? Housing the fire of the LORD in the smallest way possible, able to be blown out, snuffed out, talked out.

How many of us live as candles being blown by the wind in life just to bounce back up as a larger flame?

I’ve tested it. You must speak loud and breath-y in order to put a candle out by talking.

God speaks in a still, small voice. A whisper.

I promise you, dear friend, He doesn’t put out your fire. It’s satan who houses the voice which puts your fire out.

My candle blew out long ago. I had a life calling that was BREATHED ON by the Holy Spirit. My flame –my faith- flickered. But I bounced up with a larger faith than I had during the point of my anointing.

God was asking me to be a forest fire –to destroy the kingdom of darkness. The wind that tossed me back and forth: my trials, my hurts, my falls...only proved God was greater than I. Opposition would make me burn more furiously and jealously in order to see the Kingdom of Heaven come to earth through His humble servants.

God was asking me to be a forest fire and all I could do was wither under the pressure, make the battle my own, and allow trials to snuff me out.

I leaned on my own strength, and that was my downfall. I harbored my own ambitions apart from God –my glory or no glory. I sat docile and unresponsive to God’s unique calling. His whisper raising to a shout and yet I still sat bleary-eyed wondering whose was this booming voice I couldn’t seem to escape.

I was a zombie. The living dead. Dead man walking. I was hopeless, helpless, weak, scared, and passive.

I needed a Lighter, and all I had was a once-lit black wick to work with.

I’m telling you, dear reader, I am firewood and so are you.

I’m ready to begin the journey of interruption. Interruption of culture plans, interruption of culture norms, interruption of hate, lust, war, envy, jealousy, intimidation, depression. I’m ready to interrupt history for the sake of Christ.

You, too, are an interrupter.

Are you ready to disrupt the future?

Thoughts of the day

(excluding the ones of last night during my slap-happy session)







My hands are frozen but this fire is warming.







I looked right-side-up with it upside-down. It read "Orowo"












Hello Sunset.








I feel prized and valued today. I should feel so everyday, but today...oh...today I feel exceptionally treasured.

No, the man of my dreams (of whom I know the name) didn't ask me to marry him or even on a date.

No, I didn't win the lottery.

My mom asked me for help.

Name changes

I will be anti-gender specific when I am changing the names of these people.

Days are good without Harry. Harry is not a fun person to be around because Harry forgets to smile. Harry makes me feel stupid. I do not like Harry.

Today was half-good because Harry was only there half of the time.

Sharon and I talked a lot today. Sharon and I are STILL talking. I like Sharon. (remember, not gender specific *AHEM*)

Sharon is nice.

Differences

Today is set to The Snow Ballet by Port Blue. One minute and eleven seconds to configure all of today's hurt and failures.

Oh, how many times I've had to start this song over.

Constant drones of societal life.

...I'd rather have the woods all to myself. I'd rather walk a thousand miles with little but my microKorg Bartholomew strapped to my back and a one dollar bill in my back left pocket.
I'd disappear from sight as long as my two best friends and sister tagged along.





"I'd like to flick a pimple at you"

I'm weird.

-silence-

Okay, okay. It's not a new profound revelation or anything, but I just felt the need to make that proclamation.

I can stare at any word (excluding single digit ones) for ten minutes and become the most confused person at that present time throughout the whole universe. Play becomes pjoy.

I associate my closest friends with certain things. And also my not so closest friends, but I'll stick with the closest ones.

Jesus is always a chord in F or Bb.
Kate is always yellow.
Aaron is a vegan pot pie.
Meagan is orange dreadlocks.
Brett is peanut butter.
Peyton is a nose ring.
Kristin is browns.
Whoever James is, he is hygiene.

oh my gosh! Weird word!

I'm supposed to be writing an essay for theFurnace, but I can't seem to write anything down for it.

I'm seriously killer at writing essays. It's just the beginning that ruins me. Once I get started though, there's no stopping me.

Unless you give me a Kombucha. And pizza.

...I'd stop for those.

I found myself falling in love with the idea of a man. A man I call my best friend.

A man so profoundly in love with God that I can't help but fall in love with him for that.

I have the slightest sense he might one day return the feelings, but for now I remain cynical. I may come off quite apathetic, but I really am only pathetic.

I've found the man of my dreams, and he's found the woman that's found him to be the man of her dreams.

Dear Man,

You may or may not know I'm talking to you...

You have captured my heart in ways words cannot and will not express.

If the feelings are never to be returned, please let me know soon.

Sincerely,

bethany