warriors for Christ

Voices. 

Hundreds of voices. 

Lifted up in one song, and all praising the name of one God. 

Somehow, even though some of us can't sing very well,

It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. 

That amazingly, God blends

Imperfect voice

With imperfect voice

With my imperfect voice

To create the euphonious sound

Of believers in earnest worship.

I can't quite explain how exhilarating and humbling it is

To be one with all the voices.

To be singing at the top of your lungs

Yet not be able to hear yourself

Or any individual, for that matter.

It's beautiful because nobody stands out

No one is the star;

We are only making His name known,

Our God is the center of it all.

As the music from the practically invisible musicians

Moves my body

My hands lift in the air in thanks

And the words on the screen,

The only brightly lit thing in the room

Move my mind

My thoughts are drawn to Christ

Who died for me

But it is the Spirit

That moves my heart

And I not only belt out the words

Even louder

But I mean them so much more.

And suddenly

The music drops out

We are left only with our voices

And His Presence

And the chapel rings with words

That excite me and give me goose bumps

Together, the redeemed cry out:

"And as He stands

in victory

Sin's curse has lost

its grip on me,

For I am His

and He is mine

Bought with the precious

blood of Christ."

And as I sing to my Savior,

Closing my eyes,

I can't help but think

About the one day

When we will gather around the throne

And that this is just the tiniest

Glimpse

Of heaven.

(lyrics: In Christ Alone by Stuart Townend)

[your name]

Sometimes I wonder what you would do if you knew.  How you would react if you understood how I feel.  What you would think if you knew that right now I'm standing here in the shower, banging my proverbial head against the wall, because it's 2 am and I just can't stop thinking about you.  And I try to push these thoughts away, but I can't.  The stupid thoughts remind me of the stupid acne that pops up on my face whenever I'm stressed, and just like the thoughts of you, no matter how I try they just keep coming back. 

I wish it wasn't like this.  If I could, I would write all of my feelings down into books and put them on the shelf.  Then I wouldn't have to think about you unless I read them.  And even then, it would be like trying to imagine someone else's life; you would just be a character in a story, not an actual person that I care about.  You couldn't affect me.

I wish I could package up all my emotions into boxes and hide them away somewhere.  I'd put them in my closet on the top shelf, so nobody could get at them easily, and only take them out when I had to prove to someone that I am indeed a person.  They would sit up there, forgotten and collecting dust, just like the memory of you. 

Maybe I could just re-program myself to not think of you;  write over the code in my brain, deleting every mention of your name and every image of your face.  Maybe the next time someone mentions you, it won't send me into a infinite loop of thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking about you.  You'd just be a red little error message; a command that I don't understand.

Or perhaps I could take them and transform them into drugs.  It would be appropriate, since you're certainly more addicting than heroine anyway.  I would stay away from them most of the time, maybe take them once a year.  Yes, that's it: I'd have a holiday to celebrate my independence from feelings, and would inject myself with them for one short day just to remind myself how horrible it was to feel.

But unfortunately, that's not how it works.  That's not where the thoughts of you lie. 

Instead, they're in the icy wind that blows against my face as I run alone.  I pass by all the places that we walked together, and I can't decide which is more painful: the cold in my face or the cold in my heart.

Instead, they're in the silence that I've now grown used to as I drive home.  I can't turn on the radio anymore, because they'll only be playing stupid, annoying songs about people being in love.  Either that or they'll play that one that makes me think of you, and it'll wreck me.

Instead, they're in the streams of water flowing out of my showerhead, cleaning me, covering me.  Part of me is terrified of drowning in them, and another part of me welcomes it.  But both parts agree that it's nice that it hides our tears.

Instead they're in every one of those little shades of color in your eyes, that somehow mix together to create a masterpiece that is nearly impossible to look away from.  And as you stare back at me with eyes that look like they could see into my soul, I wonder, what if it was true?  What would you do, if you knew?

things i miss about my best friend

• That daily text telling me when she'll get off work

• The fact that she doesn't even tell me that I should come over--I'll be there when she gets home

• Walking into her house and hanging out with her family and dog until she gets there

• Singing loudly and badly in the car

• Snuggling on the couch. . .or in her bed. . .or my bed. . .or anywhere really
• The fact that she's always cold. . .which makes her want to snuggle more
• Watching stupid TV shows and talking about character dynamics the whole time
• Watching good TV shows and pausing it so we can talk without missing anything
• Staying up until 2 am so I have to stay the night at her house even though I didn't intend to
• Her family feeding me.  All the time.  And even telling me when they make my favorite foods so I can come over
• Her telling me that I can't have any milk because they're running out (but it's okay, because I brought my own from home since I knew this was going to happen)
• Analyzing everything about our favorite book characters
• Trying to guess what the personality types of our friends are
• Hearing (and sometimes feeling) her feet rub together as she falls asleep
• The fact that we have to write down all the things we need to talk about when we have a conversation, or else we'll forget
• Going to parties that a lot of our friends are at, but then just sitting on the couch and talking to each other the whole time
• Playing games when we're on the same team and winning by a lot just because we know each other so well
• Giving each other looks during conversations when we can't say something out loud, but knowing exactly what each other are thinking
• Visiting her at work and laughing when I see her write my nickname on my cup without me even telling her
• Planning our post-college trip to Alaska
• Her mispronounced words and mixed up sentences
• Our discussions about what books the other needs to read and how good they are
• Her random hand massages
• The fact that she can always be counted on to agree with me when I say emotions suck
• Her obvious love for the people around her--even strangers
• Her smell of coffee when she gets home from work, even though she hates it

• All the little things, all the big things, and all the things we do together. I just miss her.