This morning I woke up to this:

That's right – it's snowing. Today. Easter Sunday. April 12, 2009. Snowing.

As I look past the humor in that I've experienced two green Christmases in a row and am now experiencing a white Easter, I see God's sense of humor unveiled in the lessons He teaches us through snow.

White is the color of purity. A blanket of white covers all the drab, brown, dead plants, and it reminds me that Christ covers all of our dirty and stained lives to make us pure before the Father.

Yet you have a few people in Sardis who have not soiled their clothes. They will walk with me, dressed in white, for they are worthy.  He who overcomes will, like them, be dressed in white. (Rev. 3:4-5)

Snow symbolizes cleanliness from sin. The blood of Christ is what cleanses us, and that is what we remembered in the crucifixion on Good Friday. But when we are cleansed by that blood, we are made clean, as white as snow; and that is what is symbolized by the snow on the ground this Easter morning.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. (Psalm 51:7)

"Come now, let us reason together," says the LORD. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

Snow (and rain) bring forth life. As God sends rain and snow down from heaven, it waters the earth, and as the earth is watered, it becomes alive again. We see this through all of winter and springtime as snowstorms and heavy downpours ready the land, then plants come to life again, new flowers bloom, and trees produce fruit. New life is formed. 

As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth:  it will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10-11)

Beauty. I think snow is beautiful, even when it comes "out of season." And this snowy white Easter morning, I see beauty instead of a mess, God's glory being revealed instead of chaos in weather patterns. My God certainly knows how to get His point across – all is made new today because of the power of the resurrection, the power that comes because the grave is empty. And that, my friends, is beautiful.

The other day I wrote a blog about dancing with Jesus, and I've realized since then how many songs talk about dancing. So as my music was playing on shuffle today (great background noise!) this song came on:

I Hope You Dance
by LeAnn Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their youth and wonder
where those years have gone)

I hope you dance

I hope you allow God's Spirit to move you. I hope you take the opportunities God places in front of you, take chances, and take leaps of faith. I hope you allow Him to lead you. I hope you can look back on your years and not have to wonder where they've gone, because you know that they've been spent following the Father as intimately as possible. I hope you continue to hunger for the only thing that can truly fill you – God himself. I hope you can see how big and mighty and awesome God is and how small and insignificant you are next to Him, and at the same time realize that He created all of this for you and created you for all of this and see just how much He loves you. I hope you look at closed doors as opportunities for God to work in a different part of your life, leading you to a new level of trust and a deeper commitment to running after Him. And mostly, I hope you dance.

Lately I've been drawn to dance, a form of organized movement that always revolves around music. I've watched movies about dancing ("Take the Lead," "Step Up," and "Save the Last Dance" are some of my favorites, and "Pride and Prejudice" has some amazing dancing scenes as well). I've been to wedding receptions that have a lot of dancing.  I grew up doing gymnastics, and then later figure skating, so I'm not a stranger to movement; however, dancing has never been my forte.  I've never had anyone to dance with, never had a boyfriend to lead me out on to the floor at high school or college dances, never had a close enough guy friend to take me out dancing, never gotten in to the club scene where I could go dance with random people. I guess you could say I'm a "closet dancer" – I experiment with movement in my apartment or in places where nobody will see me because I think I look funny or that my movements are awkward.

Dancing inspires me, though...even if I'm not good at it or haven't done it much. To see a woman follow her partner out on to the floor, trusting him to lead her around without causing her to crash in to anyone or fall; to see couples spin around, totally oblivious to anyone else; to see groups of people moving together in these crazy, well-choreographed, intricate movements – that inspires me, it moves me and makes me want to move.

My relationship with Jesus is a dance of sorts. He takes my hand, leads me out in to the unknown, shows me all the steps at the exact right time, catches me when I fall, twirls me around and lifts me up in the air when He's excited about something. There are times we're dancing quickly and are moving a lot, where I'm full of excitement and energy. There are also slow dances where we simply sway together, where I'm caught up in His embrace, leaning my head on His chest as we move together. There are dances I have never seen before, steps so confusing that I fall flat on my face – but He is always there to pick me up, dust me off, and show me again and again until I finally get it. There are dances we've done together a million times, dances I could grow tired of but instead take as opportunities to lean in and savor the sweetness of being close to my Jesus. There are times I try to make up my own steps, try to break out and do something on my own, and He simply stands there and waits for me to return to Him, waits for me to realize that His dance is the only one worth dancing.

I want to dance with my Jesus and for Him alone. I want to spin around with Him through fields of wildflowers. I want to sway with Him in the courts of the throne room of heaven. I want my steps to mirror His as I walk through this everyday life. And when I stumble, I want to know that He is beside me to pick me up and to set me right back in to this dance we call life.

Little kids love the phrase "do over". They use it constantly: you were in my way: do over! you didn't tell me that rule: do over! he pushed me: do over! she was yelling at me: do over! his truck ran in to mine: do over! They seem to think that any time something doesn't go their way, they can simply call a do over and start back at the beginning.

Sometimes we, as adults, wish we could have a "do over" too, like the times we say things we shouldn't about people we care about, times we look at something we shouldn't be looking at, times we intentionally hurt someone because they've hurt us first, times we don't study for that test we really need to pass in order to graduate college, times we see a situation in which we could and should help and pass it by instead. We have an inherent desire to make things right, to be on the right track, to do the right thing, but sometimes our humanity gets in the way, and later, our conscious prompts us into wanting a "do over."

I wrote a blog a really long time ago about how God gives us second chances: sometimes He'll call a "do over" for us because He wants us to make things right. Sometimes, though, He lets us learn from our mistakes, our experiences, our choices...in order for us to grow closer to Him.  These past seven-ish months have taught me to embrace the experiences God has allowed me to have and to learn from them instead of wanting to go back and do things differently. There were times I doubted why I was ever on the World Race or wondered if it was such a good idea to go when I did, there were ministry sites I wanted to go back to and do things differently at, there were people I wanted to go back and see and have different relationships with. But God had a purpose in all of it: in me going on the Race, in the places my team went and the people we met and the experiences we had.

Knowing what I know now about the economy and specifically the nursing job market (there aren't even many nursing jobs available, even though it's been called a "recession-proof career choice"), I was asked recently if I still would have gone on the World Race right out of college, or if I would have chosen to work a couple years to get some experience and then taken some time off. The selfish part of me (the part that wishes I was employed and taking care of little sick kids) says "yes" – I should have gone the same path as all my classmates: graduate, get nursing license, get nursing job, work for a couple years...then maybe go on the World Race if it's convenient. From my heart, though, I don't think I would have done anything differently. 

Going on the World Race taught me about myself: my gifts (healer, servant, prophet), my talents (making joyful music to my God, encouraging others, playing with kids), my dreams (to take care of marginalized women and children and provide for their basic health care needs), my hopes and desires (to see a generation rise up and bring God's kingdom to earth, to see people step out into what they're called to do). It taught me how to relate with others (because as much as we all want community around us, living in community is one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, and certainly one of the most rewarding as well). It taught me to see people how Jesus sees them, and not just another "case" or "patient" or "homeless man walking down the street." It taught me so much about my relationship with God: full trust in Him, His faithfulness, waiting on His timing, intimacy with my Father.

So if I went back to my senior year of college, the time when everyone else was applying for jobs and hoping they'd get what they wanted, I would still be sitting in the background at the job fairs, half-heartedly making my rιsumι, waiting eagerly for graduation so that I could go out and see the world, so that I could make a difference without necessarily having a title attached to my name. I took a chance by not getting in to the nursing field right after my graduation, and this is one time I don't want to call a "do over." I wouldn't have been ready.

Instead of looking back at the World Race and seeing the things I wish I could have done differently, I've now been looking back and seeing how God used certain experiences to mold me and shape me for whatever it is that He has for me in the future. I see the children I held and cried over, how my heart broke for the little sick ones that cannot get help – and how God has given me a heart to advocate for these little ones. I see the times my team got in to heated discussions or times I simply didn't want to talk to one or more of my teammates because of some silly reason or another, times that God taught us how to live as sisters instead of strangers – and I see that God has given me an ability to communicate, an ability to relate that I wouldn't have had without those experiences. God has definitely had a plan for me all along, and He uses even the experiences that I thought were bad and turns them in to valuable teaching lessons, reminding me constantly of His love and faithfulness.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord,
‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you a hope and a future.'"
Jeremiah 29:11

"The created world itself can hardly wait for what's coming next.
Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until
both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the
same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful
anticipation deepens. All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The
difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's
not only around us; it's within us. The Sprit of God is arousing us within.
We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours
are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us,
any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in
the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer
we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy."
(Romans 8:19-25, the Message, bold type my emphasis)

I wish I could just slap up that passage and call it my blog.  There's some great stuff that Paul wrote
(and Eugene Peterson paraphrased) there...and it's all about expectation.

As Christians, we can do one of two things when it comes to the waiting periods that God allows us to go through in our walk with Him. One, we can sit idly by, twiddling our thumbs, bored out of our minds because we can't seem to grasp hold of what God is doing. Or two, we can wait in eager expectation, straining at the bit to see where God is going to lead us, hopeful of the Kingdom He is bringing, and anticipating the great things He is going to do.

I've been guilty of doing the first thing far more times than I care to count or admit. I've often thought that waiting periods are just that...times to sit and wait without even trying to see what God wants to do. Now, though, I'm learning to live in eager expectation, to wait actively. I'm learning to expect that God is on the move and to expect big things from Him even when it feels like I'm completely stuck in a rut and going nowhere.

Sometimes it's a physical act, this stepping out in faith. But more often, for me anyway, it's much deeper. It's spiritual. It's connecting my head to my heart. It's growing in who I am in God while simply trying to hold on wherever God leads. It's about voicing my expectations, my hopes, my dreams, my desires...even when physically it doesn't seem like things are going anywhere. It's all about trusting my Father to not only provide for my basic needs, but also help me flourish in every way.

And so I share my thoughts with you. My dreams. My prayers. My expectations. And I pray that God will expand my faith, because as Romans says, "the longer we wait, the larger we become."

I live in expectation of what God is going to do.
I expect God to work on my heart and in my life.
I expect to see a generation rise up and claim this earth as God's kingdom.
I expect to continually be broken as I hear stories of vulnerable and abused children.
I expect to be able to love on and work with children.
I expect to learn and grow and develop in my role as a nurse.
I expect to be a part of what God is doing around the world.
I expect to be humbled and to sometimes fall flat on my face.
I expect to have to hang on tight as I follow God in this crazy wild ride He calls life.

Heal my heart and make me clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdom's cause
As I walk from earth into eternity
(Hosanna, Hillsong United)

Prayer is dangerous: it can sometimes make things happen that we don't expect or necessarily even want, but we pray for them to happen anyway.

Take, for instance, the words to the song above. Those are pretty big prayers, not mere statements to be made lightly. For the last few years, I've said prayers similar to those. Seemingly insignificant, one-line prayers like "God, break my heart" or "God, I want to love people like You love them." And there were times He would answer, and my heart would break momentarily for someone or something. But eventually I would forget that prayer, forget that I had even said anything.

God doesn't forget, though. And sometimes His answers are long in coming. Sometimes He'll wait a while to give an answer because we're not ready for it when we ask. That's what happened to me recently.

My heart broke. And not from anything I was expecting, not from me praying "that prayer" over myself. Saturday night I went to church and the sermon was on 1 John 4:19-21 (keep in mind that a pretty big chunk of 1 John is about love):

We love because He first loved us. If anyone says, "I love God,"
yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother,
whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen.
And he has given us this command:
Whoever loves God must also love his brother. 

Basically, we're all orphans, adopted in to the family of God. We can only love because God loved us so much that He gave Himself up for us. And as orphans, adopted and redeemed, we're called to love other orphans...those who are not yet part of His family.

So the pastor starts talking about orphaned, enslaved, trafficked, fatherless, impoverished children of God. Our brothers and sisters are in bondage. They are forced to do things they do not want to take part in. They are hungry and homeless. And we, as Christ-followers, are called to love them with the love of God.

And it hit me, somewhere in the midst of the statistics that were read, that these are the ones God's heart breaks for. And something happened inside me that night – my heart started breaking. I tried to ignore it, tried to suppress the tears, so that I could look like I had it all together.  But I was broken. Completely broken. I cried myself to sleep, asking God Why do these little ones have to suffer? Why are they ignored, cast out, forgotten about? What can I do?

Pray for them.
Never stop thinking about them.
Share their stories.
Advocate for them.
Above all else, LOVE THEM with My love.

I can be Jesus to the least of these. I can love them and care for them and pray life over them and proclaim freedom for them and help set them free. And I can only do it because God broke my heart for something that is dearly important to Him. And it's all because of a "little" prayer I prayed – Jesus, break my heart for the things that break yours.

Recently I've found myself dreaming. A lot. It's not that I don't have a life and responsibilities, but it is true that right now I'm in a season of waiting. And so I dream.

I dream of working with kids. Making little ones smile. Holding tightly those who are sad or scared. I dream of using my nursing education to make a difference. Of being able to advocate for sick kids. Of providing basic health care to those who can't otherwise manage to get it.

But I wonder will my dreams ever come true? Will I ever be able to do these things? How can I do this without a very large support base, without at least a couple years of nursing experience? Is my dream too big for God?

And as I was contemplating this last night, I actually found myself asking Him that very question: Is my dream too big for you? Seriously, I went to the Creator of the Universe, the Ultimate Dreamer, and asked if my dreams were too big for Him to bring to fulfillment? Shouldn't I already know the answer to that question?

God has a way of gently responding, a way of loving me past all my doubts, failures, and insecurities. And so He answered me: No, your dream is not too big for me. Keep dreaming. Nothing about when it's going to happen, or how, or where. Just the calm reassurance that my dreams will never be too big for Him. He knows my heart. He knows where my desires are, what I'm longing for. And He answers. And He calls me to trust that He knows best, that He has a plan, that He loves me.

And so I keep dreaming. And trusting. Because I serve a God who is all-powerful and all-knowing and all-around-amazing. A God who dreams.

What do you hunger, thirst, long for? Where do you seek satisfaction? Where do you look for fulfillment? What keeps you busy?

Many of us are getting ripped off by the world because we hunger for the things the world offers, and we seek satisfaction and pleasure from worldly things instead of getting true satisfaction from the things of God and instead of hungering and thirsting for the true righteousness of God. Many of us are busy with the world and all its distractions, and we end up giving Jesus our leftovers instead of blessing Him with our first fruits. 

To hunger and thirst means to long for, crave, and have a consuming passion for something. Hunger is a lasting experience, not something that is quickly or easily satisfied. It's an "all-the-time, never going away" thing. Hunger is when we can't get enough – in this case, it is when we simply cannot get enough of God. And God blesses our hunger - when we desire God, He will fill that desire and become a part of us.

Are you hungering for God? Thirsting for His righteousness? Hungering for His ways and His word? Are you excited with joy in your heart to be obedient to His word because of how much You love Him?

If we really want to hunger for God, we have to forsake the world and say "no" to the things that are keeping us from God, and we truly have to desire to prayerfully follow the Lord with our whole hearts.

Falling on my knees in worship,
Giving all I am to seek your face,
Lord all I am is yours.

 My whole life I place in your hands,
God of mercy, humbled I bow down
in your presence, at Your throne

 I called, You answered
and You came to my rescue
and I want to be where You are

 In my life, be lifted high,
In our world, be lifted high,
In our love, be lifted high.

 praise belongs to You
let songs of children rise
You silence all your foes
You set your glory in the skies

 praise belongs to You
creation's calling out
for the King to be revealed
oh King of heaven come down
King of heaven come down 

i've come to worship, i've come to lift up Your name
for You deserve this life laid down like the one that You gave
i have but one voice, one heart, and one sacrifice
so won't You take this life laid down and be glorified

 (glorified, by jared anderson)

praise belongs to You. all of our praise belongs to the One who created us to praise Him. all of our worship, our adoration, our longing, devotion, our admiration...all of it belongs to God. and when we are praising God, all of us should be completely focused on all of Him, or, like another song says, taking part in the art of losing myself in bringing You praise.

the weekend before i left michigan i was privileged to help out with a winter retreat for middle schoolers. now, i'm going to be honest and say that middle school kids are not necessarily my favorite age group to work with – they're at a stage in life where they can be very influenced by their peers and generally don't listen well to adults, plus they can be whiney and clique-y and full of themselves (but then again, can't we all?). however, i realized during this retreat that, if put in the right kind of environment with strong leadership and sound Biblical teaching, middle schoolers can also revert back to that child-like faith, that all-out adoration that i was talking about earlier. they open up to their peers and leaders, they pray over each other, they selflessly allow others to go first in line, they step up.

so here's what i want you to do, God helping you: take your everyday, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering. embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. instead, fix your attention on God. you'll be changed from the inside out. readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

they began to be different, putting all parts of their lives before God. they didn't care so much about what their friends were thinking. they thought about the choices they were making, the things they were spending most of their time on. they rearranged their priorities. they were called, and they responded.

these kids were dancing before their King. they were sending all their adoration up to Him. they were allowing God to do something in their hearts. and it was so simple. and so pure. and all for His glory and the praise of His name.