Thought I’d be kind enough to let you know I’ve moved my blog. I’ve decided to switch over to tumblr for various reasons. So, if it suits your fancy, meander on over to http://aehumphrey.tumblr.com/ (you can even bookmark it if you feel so inclined!). There’s always the chance that I’ll end up back on WordPress… so I’m not saying goodbye forever. I’m bad at goodbyes anyway.
Just wanted to share some lyrics from three artists that have been getting a lot of my air time lately… Audrey Assad, Alli Rogers, and Matt Papa.–Plug: Matt Papa is the worship leader at Summit Church’s new North Raleigh campus. If you’re in the vicinity you should come check it out.
Your love is steady and sure as the mountains high. Moving my heart like a river that gently bends, Your love is sure. Your love is wide open spaces where I can run. And it may not be clear as the morning yet, it may not be wide as a restless sea but love given freely becomes what it ought to be. Love planted deeply becomes what it ought to and hearts given freely become what they ought to…
Oh, speak now for my soul is listening
Say that You have saved me, whisper in the dark
‘Cause I know You’re more than my salvation
Without You I am hopeless, tell me who You are
You are the keeper of my heart, and I’m restless till I rest in You
So let me go like a leaf upon the water
Let me brave the wild currents flowing to the sea
And I will disappear into a deeper beauty
But for now just stay with me
God, for now just stay with me
You are my deepest longing, so I see You everywhere. It’s You I’m chasing after ’cause I am captivated by who You are and how You move. I’ll follow You forever.
It’s more of a choice than a feeling. More of a wound than healing. Oh, the act of believing in You. And I guess I need to choose, but today I am confused and losing ground. Maybe this is where I grow, when I admit that I don’t know…
When belief becomes the only way to You.
Well I’m a river’s flow, some days I’m fast, some days I’m slow… Some days I fill the edges, then I’m shallow and pretentious, it all depends upon the rain I got that night. Well, I should never base my faith upon my sight.
What can we carry? What will stay with us?
What will shine like gold when the story’s told?
Some things will tarry, some will return to dust
There are things we can and things we cannot keep…
To give unselfishly, to love the least of these. Jesus, I’m learning how to live with open hands. All these treasures that I own will never satisfy my soul. Jesus, I lay them at Your throne with open hands… To finally let go of my plans, these earthly kingdoms built of sand. Jesus, at Your cross I stand with open hands.
God of grace, You took our place. You love us where we are. All the weak and broken sing, we love You, God of grace
Oh, Where is your heart? You say that you’re set apart. Well if you really love me, where is the difference? Oh, Where is the light? The hope that you’re hoarding inside. Well if you really love me, then where is the difference?
Then I drew a parallel. (I do that a lot)
God reaches His hand down to me daily as I’m flailing helplessly on my back and gently turns me over. But all too often I respond by doing just as the bee did. I’d encourage you to take a moment to evaluate how you have been the bee recently….
Btw, I’m still hoping the bee will come to its senses and at least have the courtesy to send me a thank you note. Probably shouldn’t cross my fingers on that one.
In my own little world it hardly ever rains. I’ve never gone hungry, always felt safe. I got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet. In my own little world: Population me.
I try to stay awake through the Sunday morning church. I throw a twenty in the plate but I never give ’til it hurts. And I turn off the news when I don’t like what I see… It’s easy to do when it’s population me.
What if there’s a bigger picture? What if I’m missing out? What if there’s a greater purpose I could be living right now? Outside my own little world…
Stopped at a red light, looked out my window. Outside the car saw a sign, said “Help this homeless widow.” Just above this sign was the face of a human. I thought to myself, “God, what have I been doing?”. So I rolled down my window and I looked her in the eye. Oh how many times have I just passed her by? I gave her some money, then I drove on through… and my own little world reached population two.
Father, break my heart for what breaks Yours.
Give me open hands and open doors.
Put Your light in my eyes and let me see,
That my own little world is not about me.
[matthew west. my own little world.]
Heard this song on my way to work this morning. Convicting. Challenging. The cry of my heart.
Lord, teach me to listen. The times are noisy and my ears are weary with the thousand raucous sounds which continuously assault them. Give me the spirit of the boy Samuel when he said to Thee, “Speak, for thy servant heareth.” Let me hear Thee speaking in my heart. Let me get used to the sound of Thy voice, that its tones may be familiar when the sounds of the earth die away and the only sound will be the music of Thy speaking Voice. [AW Tozer]
One of these things is not like the other…
So I think that I’d be doing the (female) world a disservice if I didn’t share my insights from living with 3 guys for about a month in a rural Ugandan village. I’m not feeling exceptionally creative so I’m just going to list some of my observations bullet point style:
Disclaimer: Scott, Matt, and Austin are three phenomenal guys, and though I may jest about things, I think the world of them and would travel back to Uganda with them tomorrow if I could.
>Boys will take a joke (which wasn’t that funny to begin with) and will beat it until it’s dead and lying in an unrecognizable heap on the ground. But somehow it just becomes more and more hilarious to them.
>Boys will talk about weapons and will carry weapons and will justify the aforementioned weapon-carrying all day long. There’s no use in trying to reason with them about it. Seriously, conserve your words.
>Boys gossip too. Don’t let them try to tell you otherwise. (Note: I do not say this in attempt to justify or excuse female gossip.)
>Boys like girls because they smell good and guys don’t. Except when they use Old Spice of which there are apparently 1007 variations. Speaking of, the Old Spice commercials are ridiculous (go ahead, youtube it).
>Boys like to get things done. If there are a few casualties along the way, so be it. On the other hand, I still maintain that many, many things wouldn’t get done if us girls weren’t around.
>Boys can talk about zombies for hours. I seriously think at least 14.5% of our conversational time was devoted to that topic. Apparently most guys have a detailed game plan of what they would do if their city was suddenly taken over by zombies. Because that’s practical and realistic. (Btw, I would definitely go to the top of the glowing green “skyscraper” in the center of downtown Raleigh. In part because it has a great vantage point of the surrounding area, but mostly because it looks like something out of a scene from Spiderman at night. My hope is that the zombies would be scared off by the apparent presence of the Green Goblin.)
>Boys can and will talk about their feelings. Just not the way most girls do, or nearly as often. And I personally am okay with that.
>Boys like their toys. Be it iPhones or motorbikes or fancy military backpacks that rival Mary Poppins’ handbag in terms of the amount of stuff you can fit in them. It really does no good to criticize this infatuation, so I’ve found that being supportive while trying to help maintain their grounding in reality is the best approach.
>Boys are protective over girls (if they aren’t, they should be). Travel with them and you will be safe, will avoid getting ripped off, will have your bed net tucked in every night, will get the last piece of the coveted chocolate stash and the best part of the Clif bar, and will have the most comfortable (by far) sleeping arrangement on the plane ride.
>Girls… contrary to popular belief, boys don’t need us in order to function. They really can manage quite well on their own (except for the whole procreation thing). However, I do think they realize that they would much rather live with us than without us.
>Boys get that it’s hard to be a girl and they do not want to trade places with us even for a day.
>Boys are not looking for perfection. So, ladies, let’s please stop killing ourselves in the pursuit of it.
>Boys are not made of stone or steel. And they don’t have an unshakable confidence. They need encouragement, support, and compassion. And sometimes a whole lot of patience.
Today (well, technically yesterday now) I learned that I just need to admit how directionally challenged I am. I took not one, not two, but three wrong turns on the way to work this morning. Yes, I was going the same exact route I’ve driven every other day this week. Yes, I thought I was ready to graduate from using my GPS. Clearly, I was mistaken. It may also have had something to do with the 4-5 hours of sleep a night I’ve been getting all too consistently as of late, but if I’m being honest that was only a small contributor. Regardless, operation earl(ier)y bedtime starts Sunday.
Today I learned that there is such beauty in the state of being undone. That’s a big lesson for just one day; in reality it’s a lesson I’ve been learning over the past few weeks/months. Even the aforementioned driving faux pas served as a small reminder that I am far from infallible and I struggle on my own. I’m getting closer to the point now where I’m able to sincerely thank God for those humbling reminders. Many of the reminders lately have been quite bigger than a few missed exits on the highway, but the more difficult and humbling the experience, the larger the opportunity for growth. God cannot be made greater in me until I am made less.
Heard this line in a song recently. She describes me all too well…
There’s just something in this amateur that thinks my opinion is what You need on how to work in me.
O God, You are all-wise and sovereign. Therefore we thank You for keeping in Your hands, not ours, the final determination of which paths are influential for Christ in our lives. We confess our sin and fallibility. We do not want to run the world. We want You to run it. We rejoice that our best efforts may yield modest fruit… and our most foolish choices may be made the means of great fruit. -John Piper, Life is a Vapor