Many of you (I'm just going to assume that someone out there, besides my loving sister and devoted friend, is reading this, okay? :) have probably looked at the name of my blog and wondered why it's named after a rather unattractive stone. Well, it's not exactly after the stone and not exactly after the Rend Collective song, so what is it named after?
In biblical times, alabaster was used to preserve things of worth like perfume or jewelry, after being made into a jewelry box or bottle. Mary's perfume she used to anoint Jesus' feet was kept in an alabaster bottle. If you're not familiar with the story, Mary, a woman who followed Jesus (not his mother), poured out all of the perfume she had onto her savior's feet. This perfume was no Bath & Bodyworks people. This stuff was called nard.
Now I don't know about you, but I don't recall seeing a commercial or ad with a beautiful woman saying "Nard" in a Spanish accent or rolling around on the beach. (I know, perfume ads don't make any sense! But that's an other topic for an other day...) Well, allow me to educate you briefly on what this good smelling essential oil is. This bad boy comes from the Himalayas and is extracted from the plant known as the spikenard. Nard has earlier references in the old testament for the tabernacle and in Song of Solomon and was also used in ancient cuisine. Anyway, it's expensive.
Now that I have turned into the human Wikipedia, let's get back to the point. Mary had, according to the scripture, a pound of this stuff, equivalent to a year's worth of work. What this must have meant to her, apart from it's sheer value, I have to imagine it had some kind of deeper bond with her. When I smell Twilight Woods I am brought back to the best summer I've ever had. And that's just super cheap perfume. I wonder what was going on in her heart before she walked into a room of men and knelt at Christ's feet. Nervousness? Bravery?
What about humility.
As I read through and explore the bible, this story sticks out as one of the most humbling. Mary, a woman who was supposed to be helping serve with her sister Martha, found herself sitting at the feet of God, listening. Then again, anointing. She went against what was customary to follow her God, to understand what He truly wanted for her life.
It was at the feet of God that she poured out the most expensive thing she could find to anoint Him. Usually, people are blessed on their head, but Mary went the extra mile to show that she did not deserve Christ's perfection. She blessed his feet. Then, as the oil began to run she mopped it up with her hair, yet again an other custom she broke, since her hair would have been covered during biblical times. She wanted to show her savior that He meant the absolute most to her. Custom didn't matter, money didn't matter, disapproval of those around didn't matter.
Only. He. Mattered.
I want to be like Mary. I want to give every single bit of what I have that can bless the Lord, no matter what. When judgment day comes, I want to be told "Well done, good and faithful servant". I don't want a single drop of my talent or kindness or encouragement or love to be left in me. But that's hard isn't it? That's exactly why I have to work at it every single day. I can only pray that He makes me strong enough that I can pour out myself. Wonderful things happen when we bless the Lord.
"I am broken at Your feet
Like an alabaster jar
Every piece of who I am
Laid before Your majesty
I will bow my life
At Your feet
At Your feet
My lips
So lost for words
Will kiss Your feet
Kiss Your feet
Oh the gravity of You
Draws my soul unto its knees
I will never be the same
I am lost and found in You"
There you have it. That's the namesake. I guess it really should have been named Nard...but Alabaster sounded a whole lot cooler, and it has an awesome jig by Rend Collective! Which happens to be my favorite Christian band.
Have an awesome day!
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Monday, June 23, 2014
Patience to Providence
Hello, cyber world!
My name is Tori, and I am a sinner.
My birthday is June 13th, 2004. No, I am not ten years old, and this is not the date that goes with the piece of plastic in my pocket that permits me to drive and vote. June 13th, 2004 was the day that I was baptized into the family of God. At that time, I didn't know what having a relationship with God completely entailed. I knew Jesus paid the debt for my sins, but I had not committed completely to a life spent serving Him. I thought since I'd been washed by the water, I was done. Time to kick back and drink a spiritual lemonade!
HA!
My rude awakening came a while later in my freshman year of high school bible camp. I realized that I needed to have a personal relationship with Christ, otherwise judgment day wouldn't go over so well for me-- I would never experience the life my heavenly Father planned so perfectly for me. And that my spiritual calling was to serve Him, by serving others, literally. Missions! Who knew...Quite a few highs and lows later, here I am, pouring out my thoughts and feelings into the internet...something I made fun of my dear sister for.
Anyway, I wanted to share a little something about what The Great I Am has revealed to me over the past week. Bear with me here, first time blogger in the house.
After my graduation from high school in a lovely little town in the middle of no where, I decided to go on a mission trip with the youth of my church. I've been to one other trip like this, in Tacoma WA, to help fix apartments and reach out to the local homeless community. Super fun trip with loads of inside jokes and ministry opportunities I will never forget.
This year, our youth group packed up and drove to Tucson, AZ. {AKA; just like home, save the joshua trees and insert the cacti} A place where only 4% to 7% is churched. That leaves almost an entire community that does not know the love of Jesus Christ, which absolutely breaks my heart.
I grew to know everyone there so much more in the past week than I have in the years that I've known them. Love y'all!
While in Arizona, the youth of our church helped renovate a church, install a baptistery (three people are in line for it, praise God!), wash feet and give new shoes to a women's shelter, fold clothing for an outreach program, sort donations for an organization that supports refugees from Nepal, foster homes, and local ministries, and we were involved in local outreach to the homeless.
Holy cow, right? That was way more than I had expected to do going into the week!
I was able to do all of these things at least once, which was amazing. Where I spent most of my week happened to be renovating Westside Church. There, we painted. When I say painted, don't take this phrase lightly.
We. Painted. A lot.
First, it started with the back drop of the stage, then we were asked to paint the whole church. Um...sure!
Three days later, Westside Church had a facelift and a baptismal. May I say again, holy cow. Now, I can't admit to having the most Christ-like attitude during this three day period of painting. Gasp! The cat's out of the bag, I'm human!
Moving on.
Thoughts went through my head like "Who on earth is paint going to impact? It's PAINT." This question bounced around in my head for a while, until my spirit was reminded that it was going to impact someone, take a chill pill, girl! Little did I know the person the impact would be made on was me.
Let me explain one thing--the walls we were revamping were cinder block walls. If you've never had the great pleasure of painting brick, you've never experienced the tediousness of it. First, line the grout in paint. Then, roll the wall. Then, go over the craters and tiny holes in the wall so they don't show through. THEN...it's time for the second coat. Heaven forbid a third. This is no small task when you are painting an entire church. Thank you God for such an amazing group of youth I was able to serve with! People, by the grace of God we finished this project in three days. Back to the point!
After the third and final day of lining and rolling and taping and having meltdowns over spilled sodas and stubbed toes, we had our final group meeting. For this meeting, we all threw on our closed toe shoes and hiked to the top of a mountain for an awesome sunset and some root beer floats. After hearing an awesome testimony and witnessing a sliver of God's beauty in the sunset, we shared how God met us that week.
One amazing story of God's incredibly perfect timing, then an other, then my hand was in the air. (The "Oh-crap-I-can't-back-out-now" moment. But I had to share what was going on in my heart.)
Between rolling and taping and melting down over spilled Dr. Pepper, the Lord spoke to my heart something I've needed to hear for a long time this year.
If I were a brick wall, I would be a dingy, somewhat dirty, scuffed, in need of fresh paint, brick wall. My final year of high school was marked by high highs and low lows. Things I rejoice in, and things I'd rather cover up and not think about. If I tried my best to make myself new and beautiful again, there would be gaps and craters missing of beauty. From far away, the wall would look new and fresh, but up close? Incomplete, and half finished. I would need someone to go over the fine details and fill in the cracks where I can't reach or do on my own.
Friends, we are brick walls. I thought this year that I could make myself beautiful again for my King by rolling over my mistakes, masking them how I thought best, never truly trusting that HE would still think me worthy of HIS all-consuming grace. To hand HIM the paintbrush and make me beautiful again. Because of the blood of HIS son, the dirtiness of my soul has been covered and made new, beautiful, and fresh.
Yes, I will falter. Surprise! I'm human.
It's only when I stop trying to make myself good enough for my King again (because that would never happen without Him), and ask Him to make me new that it will happen. When I admit that my soul needs revamping and some elbow grease, He sweeps in and makes me beautiful again.
Yes, touch ups will be needed. I'm human.
But He is always there with the paint can and brush, ready to cover my scuffs and scratches in the paint. Sometimes it will need total sanding of the walls to start over, but He will not turn his face from me when I need it.
This week I learned that I can't make myself clean before I go to Him. I have to call on Him where I am.
Pretty deep for paint, right? After I finished my story (not easily, and with many breaks to keep my composure) I felt awkward, like I was the only one who was crying or impacted like that. But yet again my King showed me just how great He is. I had many people come up to me and thank me for sharing, and let me know what I said made them cry as well. That I was not alone in my trials. In turn making me cry more. (The never ending cycle of being emotional!)
God amazes me by how awesome He is.
So that's my story...I felt lead to share this more than just on FaceBook. I know now that I am not the only one who needed to be reminded that I need to depend on the Great I Am to make me new, no matter what I did to get where I am.
I am so grateful for my youth group and those who have supported me this week.
I'm sure more will come of this trip, which means more rambling.
YAY!
That's all folks!
My name is Tori, and I am a sinner.
My birthday is June 13th, 2004. No, I am not ten years old, and this is not the date that goes with the piece of plastic in my pocket that permits me to drive and vote. June 13th, 2004 was the day that I was baptized into the family of God. At that time, I didn't know what having a relationship with God completely entailed. I knew Jesus paid the debt for my sins, but I had not committed completely to a life spent serving Him. I thought since I'd been washed by the water, I was done. Time to kick back and drink a spiritual lemonade!
HA!
My rude awakening came a while later in my freshman year of high school bible camp. I realized that I needed to have a personal relationship with Christ, otherwise judgment day wouldn't go over so well for me-- I would never experience the life my heavenly Father planned so perfectly for me. And that my spiritual calling was to serve Him, by serving others, literally. Missions! Who knew...Quite a few highs and lows later, here I am, pouring out my thoughts and feelings into the internet...something I made fun of my dear sister for.
Anyway, I wanted to share a little something about what The Great I Am has revealed to me over the past week. Bear with me here, first time blogger in the house.
After my graduation from high school in a lovely little town in the middle of no where, I decided to go on a mission trip with the youth of my church. I've been to one other trip like this, in Tacoma WA, to help fix apartments and reach out to the local homeless community. Super fun trip with loads of inside jokes and ministry opportunities I will never forget.
This year, our youth group packed up and drove to Tucson, AZ. {AKA; just like home, save the joshua trees and insert the cacti} A place where only 4% to 7% is churched. That leaves almost an entire community that does not know the love of Jesus Christ, which absolutely breaks my heart.
I grew to know everyone there so much more in the past week than I have in the years that I've known them. Love y'all!
While in Arizona, the youth of our church helped renovate a church, install a baptistery (three people are in line for it, praise God!), wash feet and give new shoes to a women's shelter, fold clothing for an outreach program, sort donations for an organization that supports refugees from Nepal, foster homes, and local ministries, and we were involved in local outreach to the homeless.
Holy cow, right? That was way more than I had expected to do going into the week!
I was able to do all of these things at least once, which was amazing. Where I spent most of my week happened to be renovating Westside Church. There, we painted. When I say painted, don't take this phrase lightly.
We. Painted. A lot.
First, it started with the back drop of the stage, then we were asked to paint the whole church. Um...sure!
Three days later, Westside Church had a facelift and a baptismal. May I say again, holy cow. Now, I can't admit to having the most Christ-like attitude during this three day period of painting. Gasp! The cat's out of the bag, I'm human!
Moving on.
Thoughts went through my head like "Who on earth is paint going to impact? It's PAINT." This question bounced around in my head for a while, until my spirit was reminded that it was going to impact someone, take a chill pill, girl! Little did I know the person the impact would be made on was me.
Let me explain one thing--the walls we were revamping were cinder block walls. If you've never had the great pleasure of painting brick, you've never experienced the tediousness of it. First, line the grout in paint. Then, roll the wall. Then, go over the craters and tiny holes in the wall so they don't show through. THEN...it's time for the second coat. Heaven forbid a third. This is no small task when you are painting an entire church. Thank you God for such an amazing group of youth I was able to serve with! People, by the grace of God we finished this project in three days. Back to the point!
After the third and final day of lining and rolling and taping and having meltdowns over spilled sodas and stubbed toes, we had our final group meeting. For this meeting, we all threw on our closed toe shoes and hiked to the top of a mountain for an awesome sunset and some root beer floats. After hearing an awesome testimony and witnessing a sliver of God's beauty in the sunset, we shared how God met us that week.
One amazing story of God's incredibly perfect timing, then an other, then my hand was in the air. (The "Oh-crap-I-can't-back-out-now" moment. But I had to share what was going on in my heart.)
Between rolling and taping and melting down over spilled Dr. Pepper, the Lord spoke to my heart something I've needed to hear for a long time this year.
If I were a brick wall, I would be a dingy, somewhat dirty, scuffed, in need of fresh paint, brick wall. My final year of high school was marked by high highs and low lows. Things I rejoice in, and things I'd rather cover up and not think about. If I tried my best to make myself new and beautiful again, there would be gaps and craters missing of beauty. From far away, the wall would look new and fresh, but up close? Incomplete, and half finished. I would need someone to go over the fine details and fill in the cracks where I can't reach or do on my own.
Friends, we are brick walls. I thought this year that I could make myself beautiful again for my King by rolling over my mistakes, masking them how I thought best, never truly trusting that HE would still think me worthy of HIS all-consuming grace. To hand HIM the paintbrush and make me beautiful again. Because of the blood of HIS son, the dirtiness of my soul has been covered and made new, beautiful, and fresh.
Yes, I will falter. Surprise! I'm human.
It's only when I stop trying to make myself good enough for my King again (because that would never happen without Him), and ask Him to make me new that it will happen. When I admit that my soul needs revamping and some elbow grease, He sweeps in and makes me beautiful again.
Yes, touch ups will be needed. I'm human.
But He is always there with the paint can and brush, ready to cover my scuffs and scratches in the paint. Sometimes it will need total sanding of the walls to start over, but He will not turn his face from me when I need it.
This week I learned that I can't make myself clean before I go to Him. I have to call on Him where I am.
Pretty deep for paint, right? After I finished my story (not easily, and with many breaks to keep my composure) I felt awkward, like I was the only one who was crying or impacted like that. But yet again my King showed me just how great He is. I had many people come up to me and thank me for sharing, and let me know what I said made them cry as well. That I was not alone in my trials. In turn making me cry more. (The never ending cycle of being emotional!)
God amazes me by how awesome He is.
So that's my story...I felt lead to share this more than just on FaceBook. I know now that I am not the only one who needed to be reminded that I need to depend on the Great I Am to make me new, no matter what I did to get where I am.
I am so grateful for my youth group and those who have supported me this week.
I'm sure more will come of this trip, which means more rambling.
YAY!
That's all folks!
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