Thoughts on Communion

Last summer, I switched churches. I applied for a position to direct Life Groups (bible studies, small groups, etc.) at a church, and in the process was accepted and have been there since (I still think its crazy the hired a 23 year old).

I love this church. I think I could go on and on and on and on until we are all as old as Methuselah as to why is is so fabulous, but I will spare you of that. One of these things is the fact that we take communion every week.

My first time at the church, before I was hired, I thought I just happened to come on Communion Sunday. From what I can remember, the church I grew up in did not participate in the sacrament of communion on a regular basis--only once or twice outside of youth group can I remember taking it. But, let's be honest, it could have been because I just simply wasn't paying attention. Either way, the church I went to in college only took it once a month, and I truly did believe that to be sufficient. When I went to my new church and discovered that every week was Communion Sunday, I was a little thrown off.

These were my thoughts: "How on earth am I supposed to take it seriously if we don't make something special about it? Once a month is more that sufficient." "Communion is based loosely off of Passover and the Feast of the Atonement, and they only took it once a YEAR for centuries (I may be over exaggerating on the time frame here). Why do we need to even change that?" And, of course, "If I do it every week, won't that take a way from the reflection portion?"

Ah, how foolish I was.

Honestly, I wish I took it every day. Each before the trays are passed, a deacon or a church elder gives a sermonette to set the tone as the congregation is about to partake in the sacraments. Each week it varies on what is spoken on; sometimes it is simply a reading of the scripture and a small commentary, it has been a short poem about Christ, or it has been a story of how the Lord continually provides grace and mercy upon us each day. After listening, we share in the elements while the piano plays. Each week I fail not to be overwhelmed of the grace that we have with God through Jesus. Each week I am deeply reminded of the meaning of his sacrifice and how much I desperately need it. Each week is a time of reflection, repentance, and renewal. "And and best of it is, God is with us."

"And finally Brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is good, if there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things. Now the things you have learned and heard and received and seen in me, practice these things and the God of Peace will be with you," Philipians 4:8,9

I'm Doing Crazy Things

Friends, since being out of college, I've decided that I want to keep learning. More recently, I have decided that I want to be a part of big long-term projects that make me do crazy things. I just never want to become the middle aged woman who looks back at her 20's and decided that she needed to be more adventurous. I figure if I've got time to do crazy things now, then what the heck is stopping me?

I was inspired by a 365 creative journal. I impulse bought it at Border's while buying a planner. I'm fairly certain the right side of my brain was getting a little jealous of the left side.



Needless to say, my inspiration is still there, but have not gone so far as to actually touch anything in that little journal. It is inspiring indeed, but as of late my lethargy has overtaken my desire for creativity. Perhaps this weekend I will start. Updates to follow assuming I get started soon.

Another big project I am participating in is the Wine Country Century. Crazy, I know. And yes, I do have a bike. From the 80's. Its blue. His name is Jacques. He is French (really, not joking. Its a Motobecane. Love it). My lovely roommate Gina and I decided that we have wonderful bikes and want to ride more, and the way to do that is to become temporarily insane and sign up for a 62 mile cycling race this spring. May 7th we will be subjecting our bodies to what some could call physical torment for about 4 or 5 hours. Have we done this before? No. Do we really know what we signed up for? No. Do I even own a pair of real biking shorts? Not yet. But I will soon. And yes, Mom, I will be wearing a helmet. Its a part of the regulations.



I told the leader of my Young Adults group at church who is a cyclist himself. He isn't doing it this year, but he has done it in the past. He was very excited for me, and then called over his wife and told her too. Then he got this nostalgic look in his eye and went on about how cycling truly is a noble sport--man and machine working together. It was very cute. He advised me to get some shorts. Plan on it.

In preparation, I have made a list of things I need to do before starting my big projects:

-get enough sleep
-get creative
-buy cycling shorts
-buy cycling shoes for my newly purchased pedals
-consume more protein
-become a creative artsy-crafty beefcake

I'll let you know how things go. Photos and funny stories to come soon. Maybe I'll make something like this:

Consequences of Obedience

"If we are in love with our Lord, obedience does not cost us anything--it is a delight. But to those who do not love Him, our obedience does cost a great deal. If we obey God, it will mean that other people's plans are upset...we must let the cost be paid." Oswald Chambers

"And as they led him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid upon him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus." Luke 23:26

Simon's plans certainly were upset. He had no intention of bearing a cross, particularly one that was not his own. Yet how often does the Lord ask us to do this? Are we not supposed to care for the orphans and the widows? To give to the poor, thirsty, and needy? To speak for those with no voice?

The consequences of our obedience causes many things--it can cause a good and fruitful life full of wisdom (Proverbs 2:1-3), favor from the Lord (Proverbs 8:35), and reconciliation between people and our Lord (Ephesians 4:31,32). But also with these things, following the direction of the Lord is costly. It brings us to death of ourselves in order for Christ to reign. Jesus, speaking to his followers in Matthew 16, warns them of the impending death to themselves..."If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." We are to follow Jesus to Calvary, to Golgotha each day. Only He has the power to raise the dead to life again, and only through the living sacrifice of an obedient and contrite sinner will we see the glory of the Risen Christ.

Following Jesus means the embrace of paradoxes. It means unity and division. It means the co-existence of love and hate. It brings on a myriad of mysteries that believers must wrestle with. Often these mysteries bring confusion, and sadly, misunderstanding to the unbeliever. How can these things be opposite and how can we be called to both at the same time? The world does not understand the Christian because it does not understand Christ. After the commandment of love is received, Christ prepares his followers for the coming of division that He himself will cause. He brings both peace and a sword, unifying believers and separating the sin and wickedness from their lives. He warns that mother will turn against daughter, friend against friend, all on account of the Lordship in their lives.

The question is begged--are we willing to sacrifice these things to which we hold so dear in order to see Christ risen and reign in our hearts? Will we love him so much that the earthly affections we have for our mothers and fathers look like hatred in comparison? Are we going to allow the Counselor to bear witness to and through us in an unbelieving world?

Lord let your Spirit soften my heart to make obedience a joy!

Thoughts on Getting Inked

Last week I had the opportunity to spend three or so hours in a tattoo parlor. I watched my two friends get inked! It was quite the experience--I sat there and was intrigued the entire time. What an interesting experience! There were three artist doing their thing, and while I was there I watched 5 or so people get inked. It was a fascinating experience--what a culture I had never realized before! This was Danielle's first tattoo, while her husband, Brian, was getting his third. There were two sisters getting antique looking keys on their ankles, a woman getting a heart on her wrist, Danielle getting Hebrew on her shoulder, and Brian getting an outline of a cross on his back. There were about 10 people in there at the same time, and we were all just watching the process, making jokes, commenting on the art, etc. After all was said and done, part of me wanted to go back later and just watch the process all over again!

I like tattoos. On other people. I think they are really cool, and have a decent amount of respect for people who have them. I myself don't think that I could ever get one. I'm straight up too chicken.

Dani asked me to document the experience--here are some of the photos!
Dani was really nervous, but she didn't say so (at least to the tattoo artist). I could tell because she kept on twitching her feet!



The artist doing his thing. This is Tim. I originally tried to get the camera to focus on what was going on through the lens of his glasses, but I liked the way this one turned out more.



The outline--the two words say Emmanuel and hallelujah.



You could tell this guy enjoyed his job. He was always smiling. It might just be his favorite.



The finished product! Danielle wanted it to look like henna, so Tim just made up a custom color.



I'm fairly certain the crazy girl was high off of endorphins when we took this picture.



Yes, the proportion of the cross on Brian's back is correct. It turned out awesome! He just got the outline this day; he hadn't decided yet what he wanted in the middle. Even the outline turned out neat, but the finished product really is a piece of art.



Now go out and support your local tattoo parlor.

.ilovehiking.

For my birthday (which, don't worry, was in August), I requested a pair of hiking boots. My parents decided that instead of buying a pair I didn't like or want, they would just give me some money and I could pick them out myself. Good plan! I love my boots!

My friend Matt worked at REI at the time and helped me pick them out. Honestly, I felt a little silly climbing up on the fake rock to test them out, but its still fun. I just wish it was bigger!

My first trip was to Hood Mountain Regional Park. It is beautiful up there! I went by myself (don't tell my mom!) in the middle of the week. I had wanted to be better about spending longer periods of time in silence and solitude in order to be better at listening to God. The times in the past I have done it have been very refreshing and insightful, so I was looking forward to doing it again. I had had a really strange and slightly disturbing dream a few days before that brought up some things to think and pray through, so I left my house anticipating somewhat of an emotionally hard day. As excited as I was to be outdoors spending lots of time with Jesus, I was a little nervous about what He was going to bring up.

I drive and drive and drive up this one mountain until I think I miss the turn, until I finally see the signs for the park. Praise Jesus! I didn't get lost. I'm currently the only car in the parking lot. Perfect.

I throw on my backpack full of lunch, water, journal, and bible. I start to walk to the trailhead, and making sure that no one is near to think that I am a crazy person talking to myself, I start to pray aloud. I asked God to be working in the harder parts of my life, to be healing the bruised spots in my heart from a previous relationship, and to show me where to move forward. But, to my surprise, this day of contemplation was not what the Lord had planned for me. I found that my mind and my heart was not fully immersed in that prayer. My spirit was discontent with being contemplative in that manner. I found myself grinning ear to ear as I wandered up and down the mountain, by the creek, hopping the stream, and walking in the meadows. Even when I was getting my butt kicked by a particularly steep section of the trail, I literally was giddy. My heart could not dream of being discontent while I was doing something so enjoyable! God was working in my heart a spirit of refreshment and of joy.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and they sky above proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1

Enjoy my day with me.

The Beginning



He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. Psalm 23:2




This is where I ate my lunch and stared out at the hills.



Pretty thistles



And the very tired but happy hiker.

Some Late Night Poetry

Sometimes good writing can happen at inopportune times...like when I want to sleep. But then when it is done, I don't regret spending some more time awake.

Tulips in the spring
Slowly wake up
They send out feelers
From the ground
Through the snow and dirt.
Thick stalky leaves wink at the sun
Looking forward to the coming of seasons.

As the snow melts away
The leaves and stems grow
To be a support and a pedestal
For a colorful bloom.
February has marched into April,
The temperature warms, and she always
Turns her face towards the sun.

But the sun turns on her
And withers first her velvety petals,
Stealing the crown of beauty
That once sat upon her long neck.
As May turns to June, almost all is lost.

There she lies, a mere shadow
And lump of brown root.
Her Gardner thought once or twice
Of excavating, of unearthing from the
Dirt filled niche,
But that was too long ago. He has
Forgotten.

Forgotten still, she sits through
SummerAutumnWinter.
The hardened shell keeps her safe,
Protected,
Warm, comforted.
There is nothing.
Just a shell of what used to be.

And with time comes Spring.
And with death there is life.
And with Spring comes tulips.

The Brain Train: Thoughts on Really Loving People

Brain Train: my mind goes on random tangents. I thought I would invite you all onto a recent trip my brain went on. For the summer I am living with a dear friend, but only for a few weeks until the apartment I am moving into more permanently for is ready for me. There was a small amount of tension when I moved in with one of the other girls, and my friend and I were talking about how hard it can be to really love someone well. This is my train.

Isn't it funny how loving people can be such a hard thing to do? If it is such a good thing, then why must we be willing to get torn apart for doing it? It's a risky thing, love. Even between friends, true friends, it can be hard. It seems as if I learn more and more that God's command to love seems very simple. In the beginning I do believe that it was so, but the moment sin walked in, it became a double edged sword. We can lust after the control it can give us, we can depend on the improper use and abuse of it, we use it to love ourselves and not others. And sometimes when we use it for good, it can end up hurting others as well when others react hard to the truth. It is love that puts the knife to the tumor, and love that pins the patient down without anesthesia. There are no drugs against the kind of pain that true love can make us feel; we are losing a very intimate part of ourselves when we die to our sins. Once gone, we want it back, we long for it, we feel as a part of ourselves is missing. And in fact, part of us is missing. But it was the part that wasn't supposed to be there anyways...

Thanks for riding along. May God teach us all to love well and to be loved.

What's In A Name? Well, Lots of Things.

Recently I have given a lot of thought to what it means to name something; in particular, children. Perhaps it's because i know a number of pregnant women at present, or perhaps it's something that I've been thinking about for years is finally done marinating in my brain.
Having a rather unique name myself, I never ran into the problem as a kid finding out that I wasn't the only Tamsen in the world. Now I know that I am not the only Tamsen in existence, but our numbers certainly are few. I sometimes wondered as a child why my parents chose me specifically to be the one with my name, and wondered why they weren't as adventurous with naming the rest of my sisters.
I suppose I didn't really recognize the importance of a name until a few years back. It seems as it would be logical to sat hat everyone has a story behind their name, but more often than not it is only kids with funky names get asked about the origins. I believe that this is where my journey started in my fascination with names--when I moved to college and had to tell my story over and over again.
For my parents, each of my siblings names has a meaning behind it for one reason or another. My sisters-Sarah Jane, Kathryn Ann, and Megan Ingelore, are all partially named after family members. I'm the lone wolf in that sense-I'm named after a historical figure who is in no way a relation.
Mom and Dad named me after Tamsen Donner, a woman who left a legacy of faithfulness and courage. Refusing to leave her husband on his deathbed when an early winter snowed their pioneering party into the Sierra Nevadas, she sent her children on to safety, knowing that she would meet her end that winter, either from cold or starvation. Tamsen would never see them again; she took her marriage vows literally and refused to part from her husband until death. Literally. It was my parent's hope that in naming me after such a strong and loyal woman, that I might have similar characteristics as my namesake. I'm not married quite yet, but I do believe that part of the loyalty and faithfulness I have read about has rubbed off on me; both in hearing the story so many times growing up as well as telling it to others as an adult. When new acquaintances ask for the story behind my name, I am reminded of the hope my parents had for me, and that it becomes more and more a part of me each time it is told.
Looking Biblicly at names, we see that they are extremely important. They show family lineage, tribes, and race, all of which are very important to Jewish tradition and culture at the time. I have heard that when a son was born, his name was not revealed until the day of his circumcision, eight days after birth. This supposedly was done so that the parents could watch and observe their child, to see what type of character they have and to name them something that was fitting.
There are a few times in both the Old and the New Testament where we see God make a few changes in regards to people's names. I particularly like these instances, because it shows us that God changes us to our core, that we are so radically different that we need a new name. We see Abram go to Abraham, Jacob to Israel, Simon to Peter, and Paul to Saul. This list isn't everyone who gets a name change, but you get the picture. I think what I like most about these instances is that God re-names people after he changes their hearts in big ways. Abram goes from a moon-worshiping pagan to the father of the Nation of Israel. God calls him out into the desert to follow him, and Abram proves faithful, even after being asked to sacrifice his only son, whom God has promised lineage. Abraham's trust in God's provision is astounding! God meets Abram in big ways here--he is given a new identity as one who follows the One True God, and also is given a new name to seal the deal (not to mention descendants outnumbering the stars or anting).
Jacob has been given the name that means deceiver, and he has live up to his namesake for the first few decades o his life. He deceived his father out of giving the correct son the blessing, as well as sneakily gaining his brother's birthright for a bowl of stew. But God continues to pursue him, until one day the tables turn and Jacob decides to pursue God. Jacob literally wrestles with either and angel or God himself before crossing over the Jordan one night. Upon being asked what he is contending for, Jacob demands a blessing from the Lord. His request is granted, and he walks away a changed man, both literally and figuratively. A blessing was given, a new name was chosen for him, and Jacob (now Israel) would be left to walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Changed forever, there was a physical sign of his wrestling with God, as well as a symbolic one.
When people meet God in real ways, he changes things around. He moves around the furniture in our house, he dusts off the cobwebs, and ushers the skeletons out of our closets. When we are wooed out of our sinfulness and into the glorious wonder of his love, we cannot help but to be changed into something else. As we turn our eyes further and further from ourselves and towards the redemption of the Cross, we become new creatures. Much like a caterpillar is no longer the same after it emerges from the cocoon, so is the repentant heart after it is washed by the blood of Christ. We cannot return to inching along as the worm does, but we take on the new identity that the Lord has given us in Jesus and take hold of our new found freedom from sin. When God calls me by name, I cannot help but to answer. And when he calls me Daughter, I know truly that I am his.

Adventures in the North Country

I like to try to mix up all the writing with some photos every now and then. This is one of the now times.



I went hiking with some friends a few weeks ago and found this little gem hiding in a hunk of tree moss.



This is also from hiking. I'm not sure what all the PVC pipe is doing in the middle of a state park, but it made for an interesting photograph.



Lichen. When I was a kid, my family and I were camping somewhere along the coast I think and we were on a hike that had a self-guided tour through the redwoods. I had the pamphlet that told us what all the number posts were there for, and I kept on reading lichen (like-en) as litchen. I learned the correct pronunciation simply to steer clear of more teasing from my sisters.



This is from the Exploratoriumin San Francisco. We went for our friend's birthday, and I found the light section of it quite appealing.



This is from the Observation Deck in the deYoung Museum in San Francisco. It is much like Coit Tower, one can see all parts of the city and bay. Its beautiful on a clear day! You can see all the way to Mt. Diablo if it is clear enough.



This is my friend Kali staring out at all the little ant people below.



Walking around at Sea Ranch.



I think I'll call this one Yellow Leaf on Red Brick. So original.

Until we meet again!

Picking My Brain

Here are some of my most recent (and very random) thoughts:

-I refuse to dress like its spring until Spring really decides that it wants come to stay. It has been beautiful in Rohnert Park this past week until today. Overcast and cloudy. Boo for April showers. I'm ready for the SUN!

-Part of me wants to be a pirate. It seems like an exciting job. No day would ever repeat itself. Danger, adventure, and the seven seas. What more could you ask for?

-I quite enjoy waking up on Saturdays with a mind to make waffles for my roommates, only to walk out in the kitchen and find that one of my dears has already started the process!

-Classical music is something that I have overlooked for far too long. For the past couple of months I've been listening to Handel's Messiah almost nonstop. I highly recommend trying it out. But you need to look up the scripture references too. It makes it that much better.

-It seems like whenever people as of last have been asking me what is next in life, I nonchalantly say, "Lord knows." Then more often than not, they reply with, "Well, he does!" I haven't been saying this in a I'm-throwing-my-hands-up-because-I'm-tired-of-people-asking-me-about-this type of way, I truly do believe that He does know. Its just that its my turn to seek out what He is leading me into. He knows at this point, its me who is still trying to figure it out, all in a very good way.