Imagine this: that God is your ultimate love, your greatest desire. But circumstances arise. you find yourself fleeing for your very life. You are running from the danger that is pursuing you. The people you run from had physically seen the glory and power of the Almighty God. such a remarkable miracle. yet nothing has changed. How is this possible? One moment they were in shock and awe of the living God and now they are ready to murder you! And now, you run. You find some shelter beneath a shady tree and, dropping to your knees, the distress overtakes you. You sit there and pray to God that you might die. You'd rather have God take your life than to die at the hands of demons. The emotions weaken you.

But your weary heart is just about to be touched like never before. God leads you to food and water and You find shelter in the cave of a mountain.

in your solitude, the word of the Lord comes to you, calling you by your very name: "What are you doing here?"

You reply, "I have been very zealous and passionate for the Lord God Almighty. Your people have utterly rejected you, and all who were faithful have been killed. And now, they are trying to kill me too."

The Lord says, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by."

Then a great and powerful wind tears the mountains apart and shatters the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord is not in the wind.

After the wind there is an earthquake, but the Lord is not in the earthquake.

After the earquake comes a fire, but the Lord is not in the fire.

And after the fire comes a gentle whisper.

a still small voice.

Who works like this? Almighty powerful God choosing to use a gentle whisper to reveal himself. Who has experienced such wonder! such remarkable mystery. Who can fully understand His majesty?

you do understand that within that whisper there is life and a message designed only for you, beckoning you, telling you:

your work is not complete,

and, in fact, there's a new direction to run.

 

 

can anyone recognize from where in the Bible this was inspired? ;)

Dear Xanga Weblog,

Indeed it has been much too long since I have written in you. Its nice to see that you are still here, waiting for me. I hope you appreciate the fact that it took me nearly 10 trials to remember my password. I cannot promise you that I will stay this time, but I will say that I treasure this reunion. I have made a couple of adjustments to signify this moment. All of my past photos, and many of my old blogs are gone. No, not deleted, I wouldn't dare do that to you. Just stored in your private memory. I do believe that I am quite a different person, and that some areas of my past simply need to be tucked away. I hope to write in you again soon, there is much to tell and much to discuss.

Sincerely,

Flavia

I fell asleep in the car, my head back, mouth open, sliding down the leather seat. Beautiful.
I knew we were going to see Eliam as he was dying on the hospital bed. I just didn't want to embrace my hyperactive mind of unorganized thoughts and feelings.

We dropped off the car at the valet as I hobbled out of the car like a drunk into the hospital. Gosh that place was so white, too white, too clean: formal and unattached. So many people, I'd wondered what brought them there.

The elevator seemingly took an eternity. It too, was very clean. I brushed my hands on the handlebar, letting my fingerprints sink in. Much better.

Ding.
we got out and entered that familiar room where i'd first seen his angelic face invaded by an army of tubes and wires.

There he was again, cept this time he was heaving weak breaths, moaning here and there, held while being spoken to kindly in romanian, as if he was only a little sick, and it was all gonna be alright.

cept he wasn't gonna be alright. I examined the room. The labels of the liquids being pumped into his body, morphine and other drugs. His heart rate jumping all over the place.

I'd thought the hospital was too clean,
but in that room I felt so DIRTY. Like my very existence could cause him more sickness.
I lathered my hands in sanitizer, secretly wishing i could shower myself in it.
not just my skin, but my very soul. How is it fair that someone so wretched as I could deserve what I have.
I'd always known that God was merciful and that I was blessed, but I'd never really experienced that knowledge as I stood there a few feet away from Eliam.

Emi, my cousin-the dad, told us that it was "starting"
Starting?!
what do you mean starting?!

I remembered hearing about the start of it all, how out of nowhere on any ordinary day in january he was rushed to the hospital. How he had to be taken away momentarily from his mom and dad and he'd find comfort in giving his teddy bear "head butting kisses" as we'd call them. so wonderfully cute in such a sad way.

but no, i knew exactly what Emi meant. It was the start of his dying... like he was really dying... i mean he'd been dying this whole time but now, he was truly going to die very soon.

Several hands moved to move Eliam into Emi's arms where his limp body breathed with such fight.
We waited, i sat across from Eliam and stared at his face that was just too perfect.
With every heaving breath he opened his eyes a little bit.
it was almost over.
and then, he opened his eyes even more, and looked in my direction for a few solid seconds
I could then see the tiredness in those eyes, the weakness, it was too much.

right then, he took that final breath, so distinct from the others you could hear the life leaving his body.

it was over
it couldn't be over.
i stared at that boy, i stared him down searching for any sign of life.
his chest wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing, it wasn't right, it suffocated me. I took extra deep breaths.
I didn't want to come to grips with it. But i did. i was staring at a corpse. Eliam was gone. It was the face he'd once had, but Eliam wasn't there anymore. What was left was quickly eroding. the small toddler's body was turning blue in no time.

I contemplated what i'd just witnessed.

mourning, such sadness, and... peace.
he wasn't suffering anymore and had gone to be with the Lord.

I left in a daze.

On the way back I stared at the white clouds against the dark night sky.
Eliam's time on earth was short, but God used him for a purpose and I was already beginning to see that purpose breaking and strengthening the hearts of others and mine.
and yet, i was left to deal with my own existence
i was still alive.
God was not done with me just yet.
What excuse do I have to not fully seek out his purpose? God almighty, giving me life, teaching me lessons, using me. If it weren't for Christ, it just wouldn't be justified for someone as wretched as me to receive that kind of mercy and love.

i'm still alive, there really is no time to lose. passion is urgency.