Writings from the girl's retreat (Part 2)

This is what I wrote Sunday morning....

That's what I want my life to look like

I am looking outside at the pine trees blowing in the wind. The wind swirls all around, and their branches ruffle, but the statue of the tree is tall, and their roots are deep. They may be moved by the wind, but only momentarily. They bounce back, neither broken nor bent.

That's what I want my life to look like.

In Psalm 1, it says that the man who delights in God's word , the man who meditates on it day and night, will be like a tree planted by deep rivers of water--a tree whose leaves do not whither, whose fruit is ripe and lush.

That's what I want my life to look like.

A few weeks ago, Hal and I were watching Anderson Cooper's 360 on CNN. He was talking about how president Mubarack had declared Egypt to be in a state of emergency (before Mubarack officially stepped down). And Anderson made the comment that Mubarack's declaration was so insane because Egypt had spent the last 30 years in a state of emergency. That night, as I was lying in bed I thought -- God, I don't want to live my life in a state of emergency. I don't want to live life in crisis-mode, where everything is a panic and stress, where uncertainty rules and fear flourishes.

The truth is that I trust in a God who is good. The truth is that I need not worry about life because God cares for me. I am his daughter, and he takes watch over my life. He holds my world, my heart, in the palm of his hand. The truth is that my God is faithful and that he's promised not to leave me or forsake me. So I don't have to fear. He's promised a spirit of love, power, and a sound mind. He's promised rest in my weariness, strength in my weakness. He's promised that He in me is greater than anything in the world.

I close my eyes, and I still see the pine trees blowing in the wind, their resilience, their tenacity dancing against the black backdrop of my eyelids. And I imagine that I am that tree, that resistant, flexible, sturdy tree--that though the winds blow, my trunk is sturdy and my roots are deeply rooted in the soil of God's truth, of God's promises. And with each gust, I may move slightly to the left or slightly to the right, but only to return again to my center, my core.

That's what I want my life to look like.