"Christmas Lights"

The words of Coldplay could not echo more true this year.

When I discovered that song a few weeks ago, it felt as if I had written it myself unknowing. No, I cannot directly relate with everything in the song, obviously. But it just fits so perfectly, the bittersweetness of it all.

There is a reason why I haven't posted anything in three months. Every time I try to write, my thoughts are too dark, too terrible to publish anywhere publicly. Sometimes, I cannot even face the darkness myself. I couldn't possibly share it.

I feel five years older this Christmas. And, oddly, that's not completely a bad thing. But it hasn't been easy. This semester -- and much of this summer -- have felt like hell. And yet, they haven't for one reason. I am more aware now than ever of God's merciful presence and grace. Never before have I been so close to the Lord, so longing to know him more intimately. It's a beautiful thing.

This year has presented more major trials than I could list on two hands. God has broken me, shattered me. He has shattered my strength so that I can do nothing else but find my strength in Him. He has broken my heart, spirit and will so that I might align more beautifully with His.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Christmas is so bittersweet this year. The message of hope offered in Christ has never brought me more excitement than now, as I have never understood so clearly the gravity of my sin. Never before have I been so thrilled daily to remember that, on my worst day, I am a child of the King. That truth has never meant so much to me. God had to strip me of everything else to make me realize how priceless that is and how all else pails in comparison.

Even His blessings I had made into mini gods. Oh, how wrong that was. I am ashamed to say that it took me achieving everything and more that I had ever hoped for to realize how empty it all was. That journalism, in which God is merely a component, rather than the center, is meaningless. It's interesting to think that most people think I must be so happy and have everything I ever wanted. But when I did, I realized that everything I ever wanted was meaningless because I had failed to invite Christ into every corner of it.

I never thought I would say Ecclesiastes is a favorite book of mine. Truth be told, I'm not sure I had ever read the entire thing before this year. But as I read, I couldn't help but highlight almost every other verse and scribble notes in all the margins.

But this Christmas, I will read Ecclesiastes along with the story of Christ's birth, and feel the anguish and the hope of both stories. I realize now that it's OK to feel the darkness -- as long as you don't lose sight of the light.

So, this Christmas will be a bittersweet one. I've grown up since last Christmas. And I don't think I would have recognized myself now back then. But there is one message that never changes, and that is the hope offered in Christ, through the miraculous birth of a child who would save the earth from eternal despair.

I now know true joy, joy that does not depend on circumstances or any earthly thing. No, true joy is rooted in Christ and no one and nothing else. The light offered in Christ is the light that truly shines on, Coldplay.

These are dark days

These are dark days. Days when the bright blue sky seems to mock my existence. I'll say later briefly what I mean.

I'm about a month into my senior year, and I have never felt less stressed than I am right now. Somehow, a full load of units and being the editor-in-chief of a campus newspaper isn't as demanding as I thought it would be -- at least not yet. I very well may be eating my words in the future. But for now at least, I don't feel as if every second of every minute of my day has to be planned. I actually eat meals with friends on a regular basis. And stop to talk to people. And let myself sleep in past 7 a.m. sharp.

The longer I'm in college and pursue what I want to do with the rest of my life, the more I realize how crucial it is that I learn to slow down, put things in perspective and make time for relationships. I was just thinking the other day of how I can imagine myself if I don't learn to slow down just a bit. I can picture myself with an utterly successful career, having everything I ever wanted in the field of journalism. And I can picture myself completely alone because I didn't make time for people like I should have. It's a bleak and unsettling image. And it's one I want to avoid.

So, I'm striving to become "normal." Or at least, I'm striving to become somewhat normal. I know that if I let my drive and aspirations take over all my time that should have been directed towards God and people, I will end up completely empty on the inside.

At the same time, I'm trying to stay completely sane amid the pressure. To be perfectly transparent -- well at least somewhat transparent -- I feel as if most people at Biola seem to know me only by my title. I have a few close friends who just know me as Katie, and I'm more grateful for them than they could realize. But the majority of people, especially in journalism settings, only know me for what I do, not for who I am.

There's a constant pressure to live up to some standard or criteria that comes from everyone from professors to classmates. I'm always the first expected to know the answer to a question. Expected to be some authority on whatever topic comes up at the time. Expected to always know what to do. Most of the time, rising to the occasion doesn't phase me. But every now and then, I wish I wasn't expected to know the answer. I wish I could just hide in the corner and not be noticed. But I can't do that. People need me to be strong.

It wouldn't be nearly as big of a deal if there weren't about five very big things going on in my life that cause me hurt everyday. People think my life is perfect. I've had people tell me they want to learn how to be just like me. Sure, it's a nice little ego boost, but if they only knew half of the burdens on my life right now, they wouldn't trade their lives with mine for anything. My life is far from perfect right now. If people only knew.

I don't have any solutions to this post. There's no nice little resolution summary. There is only a prayer. A prayer to God to help me order my life rightly and to stay strong when everything is shattered. These are dark days.

From academia to the real world

And so, I have officially begun my final year of university.

I never thought I would feel ready to graduate -- to leave this campus and these people. But I honestly think I will be. After working, doing what I love, all summer, returning the the world of academia is frustrating to say the very least.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy academics. But I enjoy employment more. And once again, I have to divide my time between what I love -- actually practicing journalism -- and studying it. And I know what takes priority each time. And my GPA, I know, will reflect my priorities.

But over the past two years, my concern for an impeccable GPA has diminished to essentially nothing. A pretty GPA is nice, but it isn't practical without a solid resume.

All my life, it feels like I've been prepping for the next step up in academic. In grade school, the next grade. Then junior high. Then high school. Then -- the big one -- college! But now, college is coming to a close. And the real world is what I have to be ready for now.

I'm just hoping I can put enough emphasis on my classes to learn what I need to prepare me for that.

College has been a blessing. A privilege. But I must say I'm thankful I only have to wait one year instead of two before marching across that stage on a sweltering Saturday in May to receive my fake Biola University diploma.

Bingo: Inspiration

After touring the L.A. Times today and hearing from the blog editor about how vital it is to keep an updated blog, I decided to start posting again.

The thing is, after a few months, I hardly know where to begin.

Summer felt like watching God create a beautiful tapestry that I never would have pictured by myself. He worked out the details, each and every one of them, from my rooming situation to post-graduation employment.

I never expected to have the privilege of interviewing Newt Gingrich, getting a position at a paper in Santa Barbara next summer, or meeting some of the finest reporters I have ever known.

But all that pails in comparison to the way the Lord used this summer to shatter my pride and my stubbornness and transform my self-centered heart and short-sighted mind.

There were several factors in this awesome renewal God blessed me with this summer, three of them being my church, my accountability partner and John Piper's Don't Waste Your Life.

The brevity of life has always shaken me, but never enough to actually change me. This time, I pray, is different.

The people at Capitol Hill Baptist Church were the best examples I have ever met of truly Christ-reflecting Christians. And the solid, theology-packed sermons, which often lasted nearly two hours, left me hungry for more always.

God is good. We say it all the time. But this summer, I experienced His goodness more than possibly ever before. Never before have I been so aware of my depravity. And never before have I been so aware of how sweet my salvation from that depravity is. I am saved into the Kingdom of God. It's so simple. And so earth-shatteringingly profound.

Why do I not wake up each morning overwhelmed all over again? I'm beginning to more. But I know that even now, closer to my sweet Savior than perhaps ever before, my feeble self can only grasp a sliver of that joy.

This year will push me to my limits. I can already tell. Spiritually. Physically. Academically. You name it. But I have found that it is only when I have reached the end of my self that the glory of God is revealed. For His strength is perfect in my weakness.

If it is in my most challenging times that God reveals Himself most to myself and to those around me, I pray to God to keep me clinging to Him for strength.

There's no excuse for this

Meaning, my lack of blogging in the past month.

Sure, I was busy with that book project, but when am I not busy? Sometimes, I worry that I'm so busy, that perhaps, I'm letting the important things in life pass me by. And I don't mean entering blog posts. 

Tonight, as a spur-of-the-moment thing, I drove through a graveyard. Weird, I know. But then again, is that honestly any more bizarre than the odd things I normally do? 

It got me to thinking: I'm not going to live forever. Yes, I know that my existence is finite. It's not unlimited. But it's an easy thing to forget when you're 19 and life seems full of prospects and promise. When opportunities seem limitless. 

But in reality, this life is like "a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes" (James 4:14). 

This life is a gift. This breath is a gift. Why can't I just remember that? 

I was reading Ecclesiates 3 this weekend, and it hit me all over again. The fleetingness, the futility of this life. The only life worth living is the life that is not only examined, but given way. It's the life that's sacrificed. It's the life that doesn't live for itself. 

Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

 There is a time for everything, 
       and a season for every activity under heaven:

 a time to be born and a time to die, 
       a time to plant and a time to uproot,

 a time to kill and a time to heal, 
       a time to tear down and a time to build,

 a time to weep and a time to laugh, 
       a time to mourn and a time to dance,

 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, 
       a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

 a time to search and a time to give up, 
       a time to keep and a time to throw away,

 ⁷ a time to tear and a time to mend, 
       a time to be silent and a time to speak,

 a time to love and a time to hate, 
       a time for war and a time for peace.

 What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him.

 Whatever is has already been, 
       and what will be has been before; 
       and God will call the past to account. 

 And I saw something else under the sun: 
       In the place of judgment—wickedness was there, 
       in the place of justice—wickedness was there.

I thought in my heart, 
       "God will bring to judgment 
       both the righteous and the wicked, 
       for there will be a time for every activity, 
       a time for every deed."

 I also thought, "As for men, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Man's fate is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the spirit of man rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?"

 So I saw that there is nothing better for a man than to enjoy his work, because that is his lot. For who can bring him to see what will happen after him?

I finally get it now: I need God.

So I really should be working on research right now. And believe me, I will. But I have to write about something else at the moment.

I'll try to keep a somewhat steady blog up over the next three weeks. They'll likely be just very brief postings. But I'll try.

Okay, where to even begin. This class is promising and proving already that it will stretch me in just about every possible way. Academically. Professionally. Emotionally. Spiritually. Physically. Psychologically, maybe. 

The more I know what I have to do, the more difficult it is. But the more I know what I have to do, the more reassuring it is. 

Perhaps, one reason why I believe journalism has grown my relationship with God more than perhaps anything else is because of this very reason – it has forced me to the point where I cannot do things on my own. I'm incapable of accomplishing what's at hand on my own. And I'm scared. Journalism, and this course will be no exception, has pushed me to the limits of my own capabilities, talents and comfort. 

The task is too exhausting.

But God.

The work load too demanding.

But God.

The contacts too inaccessible, too frightening.

But God.

The information is too overwhelming.

But God.

I'm breaking.

But God.

I feel alone in this.

But God.

I am utterly and totally worthless and incapable.

But God.

For nonbelievers, this realization that they need God can bring about salvation. I, on the other hand, have been raised in a Christian environment my entire life. God was just always there. Never have I in the 18 years of my life up to last year realized this desperate, all-consuming need for him as I have in the past year.

I vividly recall, in August of 2008, just before coming to Biola, crying out to God, pleading with him to make me feel a need for him. I wanted to need him. Well, I wanted to feel that need for him. Of course, I've always known that I need God. But never have I felt that need so violently as in the past year.

Perhaps, journalism. This profession. This calling, if you will, is an answer to that prayer. 

I've never thought of it that way before. Before this very moment, actually.

I need God.

I need him each and every day. Wow, that's becoming so much more apparent. Wow, that's becoming so much more lucid. As I come across things I can't conquer in my feeble human capacity.

It becomes ever clearer to me how God is chipping away at my arrogant independence. For that's really what my independence boils down to, it seems. Arrogance. Pride. 

As I mentioned earlier in a different blog, I'm realizing my need for people. But so much more importantly, I'm feeling that need, that desperate, heart-twisting, agonizing need for a Savior.

I really don't know how non-Christians do it. I really, really don't. Without my faith, I am truly lost.

Not quite sure what to say next. Oh, I could ramble on and on about just about anything. Even other important things. But I can't.

I hate time, sometimes. 

Such an infuriating, inflexible dictator he plays.

Musings from 30,000 feet

So I wrote this, but obviously, couldn't publish it, while on the plane yesterday. Please humor my spastic nature:

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January 4, 2010. Who knows when.

What do I do when I'm 30,000 feet above the air with not much to do? Well, write, of course. What else would I do?

I'm not entirely sure what I am going to write here in the next approximately 22 minutes (That's the expected lifetime of this battery charge, according to my screen. Oh, wait – just dropped to 21. Dangit.)

Perhaps the most mentionable worthy piece of information is that, for the first time in seven days, I am looking out upon brown ground. Yes, that's right – there are only splotches of snow. I'm pretty positive we're somewhere above Nebraska right now. That's one state I have yet to visit, or even see from the lovely view inside airport glass.

The cold really wasn't nearly as awful as I expected it to be in Minnesota. As long as you didn't have to stay outside long, that is. This morning at oh, 4 a.m., 2 a.m. L.A. time, my mom took five minutes out in the -6 degree air to gather her belongings. I forgot to bring my mittens. That was pretty bad. I honestly think I let slip a less-than-appropriate word or two out of my trembling, probably blue (although of course, I couldn't see them,) lips. Oh, the times we've had, my mother and I.

I can't even keep track of how many times we managed to get lost (ooh ooh the plane is turning creepily ... my stomach feels weird. Probably has something to do, too, with the fact that I've eaten basically nothing but junk food since yesterday morning. That's what happens when I don't get to run. Pouts) Okay, wow, what was I saying? Okay, well next time we travel to an outside city, I'M driving. I don't care if you have to be 25. I'll break the rules. I don't know if I've ever met anyone with a worse sense of direction than my mother, bless her dear, dear heart. :)

So, longish tale made short, I now have three roundtrip flight passes to anywhere in the continental United States. Actually, I think there are some to Jamaica and other random places, too. Basically, we volunteered to take a later flight to alievite the people clogging. My mom and I thought we were just getting two free roundtrip flights (aha, only >_>), but it turns out we're really getting six. Total. Dang. 

This means well, many things. A friend interning in D.C. this spring invited me to come stay with her and check out the city before I (hopefully!) move there for the summer. Ooh ooh we're landing in Denver now! Ok, got to go now.!!!!