Early Childhood Center Christmas Program 2013
In order to appreciate the most beautiful literature of this world I must know how to read.
If I want to appreciate the best music I must have a decent hear for melodies and harmonies.
If I want to appreciate this worlds art I must understand it.
My heart is only as expressed at my skills and abilities to articulate will allow.
The more words I have in my vocabulary arsenal the more I have the ability to hone in and communicate more specifically how I am feeling.
The more languages I know the broader the expression of my heart can be.
Babies cry because it is the only skill of communication they have at that stage in life. As we grow, as we learn, we become more expressive, we become more understood.
But there is always the chance that a word could meant two different things to two different people.
We spend out lives trying to express ourselves making sure that our hearts are understood as fully as they can be.
It makes me think about communicating with God. It is easy to communicate to God in limitless ways. If I play a song on the guitar God hears the expression I am attempting to create. If I say to God "You are good" God knows what the word "good" means to me and the exact definition that has been formed in my brain. If I paint something I have seen whether in my mind or from these eyes God knows the imagine from my heart from which this expression originates.
But what about the other end? What about communications from God? What language does God speak? Does he speak Hebrew? Does he speak to physical ears through airwaves? Does he speak through words on a page? Through signs? What if God isn't limited by the avenue from which he speaks but there is a way that he speaks and I am missing it.
As I was driving across the country living in my car by myself I didn't really read the bible that often. I didn't listen to sermons. I didn't pray a whole lot. But the strangest thing kept happening.
I felt God, often.
I couldn't understand it. I felt guilty for not reading the bible daily, I felt guilty for forgetting to pray some nights. But yet I felt as if each day was filled with relationship with God. How?
How does God speak? Does God have a mouth, vocal chords, a diaphragm? As if we could possibly have the audacity to assume we are capable of interpreting God's communications. God is so big and so wise that it seems to be very possible his thoughts, language, and communication couldn't possibly even begin to be captures inside my tiny decaying brain tissue.
There are portions of the light spectrum we cannot see.
There are some sound waves our ears cannot hear.
There are some ingredients our taste buds cannot detect.
How can we possibly imagine or believe that we have the ability to even begin to understand the expressions of God? The tiny, tiny, tiny, range I have for receiving communication is incredibly limited.
I started to wonder, how do I feel God on this trip without the bible and without prayer?
Then I started thinking about this communication stuff.
As if english translation of the bible is the only way God can speak to me
As if english words muttered from my limited vocabulary into short range sound waves are the only way God can hear my prayers.
Then I thought about the great plains of Nebraska. I thought about how my soul felt as my eyes digested the panoramic view of a tiny section of God's creation. I thought about my lungs as I would pull over and breath in slow and deep.
I thought about the mountains, the rockies, the sierras, the wasatch, how the air felt nearly 10,000 feet above sea level. Climbing and standing on the roof of my car seeing as far as my marbles of eyes could see. What is in the middle of them? What is below them? Are they slowly moving on tectonic plates higher and higher before my eyes? Yelling as I stand completely alone atop a mountain.
I thought about the Pacific Ocean. How many gallons? How many whales are in the very same water that is freezing my toes as I stand on the shoreline? Who has drank this water before my time?
I thought about the canyons of Utah. Did a slow passage of erosion cause this beautiful landscape or something we are unaware of?
I thought about the Kansas sunrise and how it looked like an upside down beach shore. The yellow orange glow from the sun like sand before it is visible melting into the deep blue of the dawn sky ocean.
Dinner with my mom and her sisters. Dinner with Alan as I pass through Cincinnati.
Are you communicating with me? Are you speaking to me through every sense I have, even some I am not even aware of? I kept thinking as I was on this adventure. I kept feeling God everywhere but it wasn't in the ways that God is suppose to be there.
It was as if driving through the mountains was the best worship service I had ever been to.
It was as if a beer in a local truck stop with strangers was the best small group I'd ever attended.
It was as if dinner with Alan, an old friend, was the best sermon I'd heard.
It was as if standing there, in the trees, quietly, was the best prayer I've ever prayed.
How big is God?
How does he reach out towards us?
Now I know the question is how could I have thought time away could be possible?
I trust you Jesus
free her heart
heal Bea
heal me
twenty one pilots - Trees
In order to appreciate the most beautiful literature of this world I must know how to read.
If I want to appreciate the best music I must have a decent hear for melodies and harmonies.
If I want to appreciate this worlds art I must understand it.
My heart is only as expressed at my skills and abilities to articulate will allow.
The more words I have in my vocabulary arsenal the more I have the ability to hone in and communicate more specifically how I am feeling.
The more languages I know the broader the expression of my heart can be.
Babies cry because it is the only skill of communication they have at that stage in life. As we grow, as we learn, we become more expressive, we become more understood.
But there is always the chance that a word could meant two different things to two different people.
We spend out lives trying to express ourselves making sure that our hearts are understood as fully as they can be.
It makes me think about communicating with God. It is easy to communicate to God in limitless ways. If I play a song on the guitar God hears the expression I am attempting to create. If I say to God "You are good" God knows what the word "good" means to me and the exact definition that has been formed in my brain. If I paint something I have seen whether in my mind or from these eyes God knows the imagine from my heart from which this expression originates.
But what about the other end? What about communications from God? What language does God speak? Does he speak Hebrew? Does he speak to physical ears through airwaves? Does he speak through words on a page? Through signs? What if God isn't limited by the avenue from which he speaks but there is a way that he speaks and I am missing it.
As I was driving across the country living in my car by myself I didn't really read the bible that often. I didn't listen to sermons. I didn't pray a whole lot. But the strangest thing kept happening.
I felt God, often.
I couldn't understand it. I felt guilty for not reading the bible daily, I felt guilty for forgetting to pray some nights. But yet I felt as if each day was filled with relationship with God. How?
How does God speak? Does God have a mouth, vocal chords, a diaphragm? As if we could possibly have the audacity to assume we are capable of interpreting God's communications. God is so big and so wise that it seems to be very possible his thoughts, language, and communication couldn't possibly even begin to be captures inside my tiny decaying brain tissue.
There are portions of the light spectrum we cannot see.
There are some sound waves our ears cannot hear.
There are some ingredients our taste buds cannot detect.
How can we possibly imagine or believe that we have the ability to even begin to understand the expressions of God? The tiny, tiny, tiny, range I have for receiving communication is incredibly limited.
I started to wonder, how do I feel God on this trip without the bible and without prayer?
Then I started thinking about this communication stuff.
As if english translation of the bible is the only way God can speak to me
As if english words muttered from my limited vocabulary into short range sound waves are the only way God can hear my prayers.
Then I thought about the great plains of Nebraska. I thought about how my soul felt as my eyes digested the panoramic view of a tiny section of God's creation. I thought about my lungs as I would pull over and breath in slow and deep.
I thought about the mountains, the rockies, the sierras, the wasatch, how the air felt nearly 10,000 feet above sea level. Climbing and standing on the roof of my car seeing as far as my marbles of eyes could see. What is in the middle of them? What is below them? Are they slowly moving on tectonic plates higher and higher before my eyes? Yelling as I stand completely alone atop a mountain.
I thought about the Pacific Ocean. How many gallons? How many whales are in the very same water that is freezing my toes as I stand on the shoreline? Who has drank this water before my time?
I thought about the canyons of Utah. Did a slow passage of erosion cause this beautiful landscape or something we are unaware of?
I thought about the Kansas sunrise and how it looked like an upside down beach shore. The yellow orange glow from the sun like sand before it is visible melting into the deep blue of the dawn sky ocean.
Dinner with my mom and her sisters. Dinner with Alan as I pass through Cincinnati.
Are you communicating with me? Are you speaking to me through every sense I have, even some I am not even aware of? I kept thinking as I was on this adventure. I kept feeling God everywhere but it wasn't in the ways that God is suppose to be there.
It was as if driving through the mountains was the best worship service I had ever been to.
It was as if a beer in a local truck stop with strangers was the best small group I'd ever attended.
It was as if dinner with Alan, an old friend, was the best sermon I'd heard.
It was as if standing there, in the trees, quietly, was the best prayer I've ever prayed.
How big is God?
How does he reach out towards us?
Now I know the question is how could I have thought time away could be possible?
I trust you Jesus
free her heart
heal Bea
heal me
twenty one pilots - Trees