Hum!

I recently found a 50-cent copy of one of my favorite books, Jesus In Blue Jeans by Laurie Beth Jones. As I was going through it, I came across one of the Bible studies: It was on humming. I thought it really interesting that she hums to calm herself down. She says that when she's feeling like life is just not going well, she hums. I just want to write a very brief encouragement (and this is rather tongue-in-cheek, because I need this as much as anyone else possibly could.) The next time you are angry, nervous, worried, upset, or anything like that, hum.

Happy Holidays!

Just wanted to say....
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!!!
Hope everyone is having a great holiday! But, even amidst presents and parties and malls, remember the reason for the season!!!

-Abbie and Lauren

You may not have noticed, but we have a new web banner at the bottom of the page for a new organization. The following is a little about the group, and cause.

Dollar for a Drink was started by a home-school sophomore, Joshua Guthrie. (He also happens to be a rebelutionary.) This summer he decided to start a project, (build a well in Sudan,) but there was a small problem; it cost $8,000. Out of that problem came the organization Dollar for a Drink.

Here is some info about what they do. (It's from their web site.)

...Dollar for a Drink is a non-profit organization that is raising money for fresh water wells in Sudan, Africa. We are working with Baptist Global Response, which is a humanitarian relief organization similar to World Vision and Samaritan's Purse. Dollar for a Drink is a "turn-key" operation. We raise the money for the wells, and BGR puts them in. 100%* of donations will be spent towards the building of the well(s).

*The 100% comes from the amount after the donation transaction fee, which is charged by the Network for Good organization for the use of their services. The transaction fee is 3%. In other words, if you give $1.00, then only .97 cents will go to the building of a well. There is an option on the donation page to give an extra 3% to cover the transaction fee so that an entire dollar goes to the building of a well.

The concept is not hard to grasp: Give up one drink. Give one dollar. Build one well in Sudan.

What will you do? (Go to their web site, and donate!)

Great Bible Verses

As a rebelutionary, I love reading passages that just seem to say "what are you doing sitting still?" The following are some of my favorite passages from the Bible. (Just thought I'd share them.) I know that if I had the time, I could sit here and explain what each of them mean to me, and why I think they explain the Rebelutionary message, but I don't have time. (And I think that they are all pretty much self explanatory.) Anyway, here they are, and I hope you Enjoy!




Ephesians 2:10
For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God
prepared in advance for us to do.



Titus 2:11-14
For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say "No" to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.



Ephesians 3:20
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.

Hebrews 13:20-21
May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Colossians 1:16
For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.



Jeremiah 29:11
“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 hope and a future.”

Comfort zone

Have you ever watched a bubble float around aimlessly in the sky? It's oblivious to the world, doing it's own little thing. It doesn't have a purpose or a goal. It just floats there, useless, until the world reaches out and touches it. Suddenly, it pops - it just can't take the pressure.
I've been homeschooled all my life, and my mom has always been standing right there beside me. I've never had to stand up to a bully. I've never had to be alone, without someone to back me up. And so I get scared. I get scared of the stupidest things, like walking into Walmart alone, or even giving my order to a waitress. I've built a wall around myself, and I'm terrified of what's on the other side.
This bubble I've trapped myself in is my "comfort zone". It's what I'm good with happening, it's what I'm good with doing. It's where I can lean back and relax. It's pure selfishness, really. I'm saying "no" to what other people (and God) need me to do, just because I'm not comfortable doing it.
When Jesus called his disciples to Him, it wouldn't have been easy to follow. They would have to step outside their comfort zones. Do you think they thought, What will my neighbors think of me? or, How in Israel am I going to support my family? They had to trust in God instead of themselves. That took faith. That took them outside of their comfort zone.
Even Jesus had to stride out of his comfort zone. It wasn't easy to leave behind a crown in Heaven, or to be humbled to human flesh. But he chose love over comfort. He did it to glorify God. And that's the whole reason we were put on this Earth in the first place, isn't it? To bring glory to God's name.
So, it's your decision. You can push yourself now in the easy things, so that when God calls you to bigger things you'll be ready. Or you can be like the rest of the world. Comfortable, but useless.

How Great is Our God?

I was sent these pictures a few days back, and I think they are really cool. The person who sent them to me described it really well. He said:

It looks like a battle between heaven and hell. Two of nature's most spectacular forces produced an incredible brew in the skies of Chile as a volcanic eruption met a lightning storm. Tons of dust and ash from the eruption of the Chaitin volcano poured into the night sky and it just as an electric storm passed overhead. The resulting collision created a spectacular sight as lightning flickered around the dust cloud amid the orange glow of the volcano.














Aren't they just cool? God is so good. When I see these pictures I think of the Bible verse Ephesians 3:20-21. The N.I.V. It words it like this:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen.

-Lauren

It was me.
I did it.
It’s my fault.
His face is there once again in my dreams – pain, such horrible pain, sketched across it.
It was me.
It was me who betrayed him; me who told the Priests where he was; me who led them to the Garden of Gethsamene. Oh, that horrible, horrible night, in that horrible garden; that horrible kiss I gave my master on the night I betrayed him.
It was me. I betrayed my Lord.
I did it.
I was the one in the crowd who yelled at the top of my lungs. That wicked, wicked crowd in that wicked place of judgment. And the wicked word - “Crucify!” The place throbbed with the beat of my heart. “Crucify!” It rang with the words that I screamed. “Crucify!” The Creator rejected by his own creation. “Crucify him!”
I did it. I rejected my Creator.
It’s my fault.
It’s my fault that he died. He died! He died because of me, who made his crown of thorns. I was the one who mocked him. It was me who flogged him. Me who laughed when he fell on his face, on that dreadful road up to Mount Golgotha.
I was the one who held the hammer, that huge, deadly hammer. I was the one who put the nail into place. It was my arm that swung back – and fell with a thud. Thud, thud, thud, to match the beat of my heart.
“The King of the Jews” was in my own handwriting. And those hands that tugged, tugged, tugged on the rope that lifted a cross into place – those were mine. I rolled the dice – gambling over his clothes even while he still lived. I was the one who cried, “Come down, if you really are God!” but also the one who looked away, scared to meet his searching eyes. I was there when he cried out for water, and I lifted the sponge soaked in vinegar instead. I watched as the skies darkened, as the wind began to howl, and the Earth began to tremble. I heard him, overcoming pain, overcoming anger, overcoming the horrible weight of sin – forgive me.
I was the one who looked up – and saw the blood crawling down his face, saw the pain in his eyes, saw the love in his smile. Yes, love for me. Me, me, me! Me, who stood there helpless as his head hung low, who saw the final breath escape the weary lungs. Me, who saw him die. Who killed him. Me, who pierced his side. Me, who looked down at the spear in my hand, the blood-stained spear, and cried. Yes, I cried. Cried, and cried, and cried. Fell down on my knees and sobbed, my body throbbing with the pain of guilt. I had killed my God! I had killed my Lord! I had murdered my Savior! I rocked back and forth, holding the spear that was covered in his blood. And I sobbed. I sobbed because I knew that He was the one. He was the Messiah, and I had killed him. I stood up and screamed my rage and grief to the world. And then I took that wretched spear, and broke it over my knee. I threw it, wanting to be rid of it forever – for it to be as far away as possible. But it landed at the foot of the cross. The cross. His cross. I crawled slowly toward it, and hugged the rough wood to my tear-stained face. And slowly my hand slid up, up, up; and touched the cold, limp feet of my Lord. I ran my hand over those feet, and then I felt the nail, hard, cold and cruel, that still held those lifeless feet still. Suddenly I tore away from Him – and stopped a few feet away, the tears welling up all over again. I looked for something to give me comfort. But all I saw were things that had brought death – the hammer, pieces of wood, the dice that the gamblers had left behind. But everywhere, everywhere, blood. His blood. The same blood that stained my clothes, that had rubbed off on my face, that covered my hands. I tried to rub it off, but the more I rubbed, the redder it became. I was horrified. My hands were stained with his blood, and guilt once more overwhelmed me. Suddenly all I wanted was to be away, away from this dreadful place, away from the hammer, from the blood, from this hill. But most of all, away from that dead figure on the cross. The One that I had murdered. Away, away, away! I started to run; faster, faster; stumbling over rocks, but always on, and on, away! I didn’t care where I was going…I only cared about what I was running away from. But my heart still hurt, and it tugged at me, urging me to stop, to turn, to look back. No! I screamed. No! I must get away! Away, away! Look back, a little voice in my mind said. Look back….and so I did. I stopped, and, slowly, I turned, and did look back; back to the one I was running away from. The darkness had finally lifted, though I had been too lost in grief to care. And there, behind the cross, the sun set in fiery colors of red and orange; the cross looked black and menacing against it. And there, standing in front of the cross, was the shape of a little boy. A very little boy. Standing there alone, alone, alone…I took a step towards him, and then scolded myself. If only I hadn’t looked back! But against my will, I took another step, and stopped still, as the child turned around. Against the last rays of the fading day, I saw a pitiful face streaked with pain and tears. I took another step, and then another and another, my eyes always on the child. And then I was running again, though I don’t know how my tired body found the energy. The child began to shake, it’s body racking with sobs as it’s hands flew up in a feeble attempt to stop the flowing tears. I’m coming! my heart screamed. I’m coming…The little boy fell down on his knees, and more and more sobs came. I’m coming, coming, coming! And then, I was there, and the little head collapsed on my shoulder; the thin arms wrapped around my neck, and a small, sweet little voice by my ear sobbed,
“He’s gone! He’s gone! He’s dead, dead, dead!”
“Shh, shh….” I soothed as my tears mixed with his. “Shh…”
My mind still throbbed with the memory of what I had done, and I didn’t know what to say to comfort when I myself needed comforting. All I could do was hold the little one tight and cry with him. I don’t know how long I held him like that, but just the feel of a warm body against mine was the greatest comfort I could have had in that unhappy hour. The child’s sobs turned into sniffles, and then into deep, shaky breaths. A little hand pushed against my shoulder and he squirmed out of my arms, and ran to the foot of the cross, his head leaned back and deep brown eyes filled with the question “why?” as he stared up. It tore my heart to see it. I walked to his side, and gently took his hand, and we stood that way, reflecting. Reflecting on the wondrous deeds, the miracles and signs - the teachings and parables, the rumors that spread like fire through the town. And then his Death. He never spoke a word in His defence - never cried aloud when the nails were driven in - never yelled or screamed at the ones who defied him. He just looked at them with those loving, pain-filled eyes, and forgave them. I thought of my grief and misery, of my screams of rage and sobs of hopelessness. And I knelt down on my knees - and prayed.

"Lord...." Tears. "Jesus, if anyone ever did you wrong, it was me. I..."
More tears. It took a while for me to begin again. "It was my hands that nailed you, raised your cross, and pierced your side. And some of those sins that weighed you down - those were mine. I'm sorry. So sorry...." Sobs again, and my face fell to the dust before his feet. "Would you...." a shaky breath. "Please, Jesus, forgive me. Take my guilt, my awful guilt away!"
And then I remembered his beautiful eyes, though already they were fading from life; and I saw again the love in them. Yes, he forgave me. I remembered his crooked, pain filled smile; yes, smile! A smile in the midst of tears. Yes, he forgave me. I remembered how his face had softened as it turned to me. Yes, he forgave me. I remembered those words he uttered even as he clung with a last effort to Life. "Father, forgive them...." He forgave me. Even me, his murderer.
A little hand touched my shoulder. "Don't worry. He loves you. He will always love you."
I looked up at a boy not more than 6 years old.
"He loves you." I lifted my head to look at Jesus' body, and then turned back to the boy. But he was gone. The little boy that had helped bring me back to the foot of the cross, that had helped me to overcome my guilt and shame.
Was he an Angel?
I laughed. I felt so light, so free; so happy. Forgiven.
"Thanks." I whispered, and walked again down the path towards Jerusalem.

The Impossible Hike

A couple of years ago, my family went on a vacation to Colorado, to see the Rocky Mountains. It was beautiful! One day, as we went for a one-mile hike near a lake, we discovered that there was another trail that forked off of ours, climbing, zig-zagging, up one of those great Rockys. Foolishly, we took that hike, not knowing how long it would be. In a very short amount of time, we ran out of water. But still we hiked on, and on, and on, until my 4 siblings and I could take it no longer. We had to stop. So, we stopped to rest, and eat a little of the Beef Jerky in our backpacks. But when it was declared time to move on, we refused. We quit. We hiked all the way back down to the bottom, stumbling wearily most of the way. From the bottom, it was one mile more to the car. When we heard it, we could've cried. And, actually, some of us kids, (including me) did. That hike introduced us to pain that none of us had ever experienced before - and never want to know again. It got tough, and so we quit, even before we had reached the snow.
Everyday, many people try to climb the outrageous heights of perfection. And, everyday, most of those people quit. They decide that they just can't do it. And their right!
They can't do it on their own.
Fortunately, God knows that they can't, and provides a way, a path, a trail, to perfection. He writes the law. But still many of us fall - and quit.
And so God provides a GPS - the many prophets of the Old Testament, yelling at you when you take a wrong turn. But people are too stubborn to listen to these gadgets.
Do you see a pattern here? God provides, but even then we fall short. We can't make it.
The only One who can get us all the way there, is God. And so He does. Jesus Christ, the son of the Creator, lays himself down, and paves a path. He guides us when the path gets rough. He's our walking stick to lean on when we can't go one more step. He's the light in the darkness. He's the living water that revives us when we fall. He's the strong arms that lift you when you do fall, and carry you the rest of the way. The rest of the way, to perfection. To Heaven. To Eternal Life.
Why, then, are there still so many at the bottom? There's everything you need right here, right in front of you. Will you not accept it? Will you not give up trying to do it on your own, and take the outstretched hand of God? What more could you want? Is it your pride holding you back? God says, Pride comes before a fall. Is it your shame? "All have fallen short of the Glory of God." Not just you! All of us.
Accept God's guide, and stop trying to write your own map. Give God your trust, your faith, your heart. And lean on him. He'll carry you all the way. All the way up the Impossible Trail.

Ebenezer

OK, I know this sounds kind of odd, but I got the idea for this post from an e-mail loop that my mom is part of. A while back they had a discussion about a song. It was a good discussion, and I want to share one of the things I learned. Actually, I just wanted to share a few thoughts about one of the lines. The song is entitled "Come Thou Fount". The first two stanzas go:

Come Thou Fount

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.


So, the writer is praising God for all he has done, and he says "Here I raise my Ebenezer...." I did not know this before, but an Ebenezer is a 'stone of help.' I had always thought, "Wow that's kind of odd, isn't 'Ebenezer' out of A Christmas Carol? You know, Ebenezer Scrooge.'" Well, I was wrong. The author was actually referring to a Jewish custom. You see, when the Israelites crossed over the red sea, they set up a monument, an Ebenezer. They put it there so that they could remember their crossing. So years later their children would ask why it was there, and they would remember crossing over the red sea again, and they could tell their children about what God did for them. It would be their stone of help for many a generation.

That's a cool thought, isn't it? To have a 'stone of help', I like the idea! But notice, the song does not end there. The writer goes on to say "Here by Thy great help I've come; And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home." He does not just say, "Thanks for your help! See you next time I'm in a dire situation and I realize I can't do it on my own!" The writer says "Yes, I know you are the reason that I am here! If it is you will, please help me to get where I need to be. I know can't do it on my own. Help me to arrive where you want me to be!"

It is really an inspiring song. It is a prayer really.

I just thought that it had a cool message, and I think it is really thought provoking.

1st Samuel 7:12
Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen, and called its name Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us”.


One other thing, I found a vid. on God Tube that has a lady signing Come Thou Fount. It is pretty good. Click HERE to watch it.

-Lauren

Perfect Joy

Joy. What does it mean to you? Money in your pocket? Making music? Being surrounded by friends? Happiness is a funny thing. It's a hole in your heart that must be filled. It's something that must be found, like a hidden treasure. It's the thing that adorns the girl around the corner, but never seems to fall on you.
Or at least that's what the world tells us.
They say you need to have the right clothes, the right cell phone, the right computer, to be happy.
But that's not true. It's a lie. No, Joy is not a lie - a myth - a legend. It's real. What isn't real is that you can do somethng about obtaining it.
Because you can't.
You can't, but someone can. Let's look back to the beginning of the Bible. It says in the 1st chapter of Genesis, several times actually, "And God saw that it was good." The Garden of Eden was perfection. Filled with joy and happiness. Of course, then Adam and Eve had to go and mess things up. Joy wasn't so easily found anymore. It was still there - you could feel it gazing at the brilliant stars; holding a newborn baby; when you shared a meal with some one else. But now there were other emotions, too. Anger; when the skies cloud up. Sadness; when the tiny, helpless, newborn baby dies. Selfishness; it was your meal, after all. Sin entered the world.

It wasn't a world of joy anymore. It wasn't the world of which God had said, "It is good."

In fact, it was bad. And it kept on getting worse. But God had a plan.

About 2000 years ago God sent his only son, Jesus Christ, to Earth.

No, think about it.

God's perfect world wasn't perfect anymore. The only perfect thing left was God. God, and his son.

Okay, so you have two chocolate bars. One of them your little sister drops in the dirt, and is no good for anything except to be thrown in the trash. It was good, but the dirt changed that. Now let's look at your other chocolate bar. It has everything that you could ever want! Caramel filling, nuts, dark chocolate, the creamy inside, this humongous chocolate bar of perfection. It's the only thing you have left. What are you going to do with it?

I know what I would do. I would be angry at my sister for dropping my first chocolate bar. I would be sad that my first chocolate bar was ruined. And, most of all, I would be selfish. I wouldn't share my perfect chocolate bar! Not with the girl who ruined my first one! After all, I gave her a chance to have some of a chocolate bar. She just didn't take that chance. It's her fault.

But God isn't selfish.

He sent his perfect son to this sin-filled Earth. His perfect son was born in a place that smelled like cows, sheep, horses. Even pigs. His perfect son ate the bread that was fixed by sinful hands. His perfect son was accused of many crimes. His perfect son was mocked, flogged, pierced, starved. His perfect son carried a cross to Calvary. His perfect son was nailed to a tree that he had created. His perfect son felt the crushing weight of all the sins that we could not carry. His perfect son died on a cross to save us from our sins.

So that we could have joy again. So that we could be perfect.

So that we could have Perfect Joy.

Wind

Abbie and I went to the Rebelution conference in Dallas last weekend. On the way the air conditioner started acting funny. We ended up having to turn off the air for a while and roll down the windows. We hardly ever roll the windows down when we are the interstate (I'm hardly ever on the interstate anyway), so I did not realize that rolling the windows down would mean so much air being pushed in the car. (My mom keeps telling me I am blonde. I guess she is right!)Anyway, I was shocked. I guess air doesn't flow through the car at the same speed when you are going 70 mph as when you are going 40 mph.

Having the windows down was fun for the first five min., but soon I started getting tired of fighting to stay sitting in one place, the air was so strong! I eventually had to roll my window up for a min, and rest, then roll it back down, then back up, several times. In the end, we were able to keep our windows up, and the air conditioner worked better then ever!

God is the air conditioner. (No, I do not worship our air conditioner, but I do enjoy it!) We are the passengers in the car of 'life'. We found out that our air conditioner was acting funky, so we needed to open our windows to the world. And, although it was good for us, (it fixed the conditioner,) I needed a break from the world. I needed tofall back into the car with my window rolled up to rest. We, as people are the same way. We will be forced into the winds of life, and it strengthens our relationship with God, but to be able to survive we have to often and always fall back on God.

-Lauren

Welcome!

Welcome to our blog!

How do you start a blog? To be honest, we don’t know. It’s not exactly like a letter, because it’s not to one specific person. It’s not like a book - we don’t have one particular thing to write about. So, how do we begin? It’s a really tough question. We could just say welcome, so, um…WELCOME!

Hi! I am Lauren. I play piano, and I do Irish Step Dancing. I am an avid reader, and am always looking for more good Christian literature. I have a passion for God, and I hope you see it as you read this blog!

Hello! I'm Abbie. I love reading, piano, and the outdoors but, most of all, I love ballet. Not the pink tutus, but the work; the sweat; the passion! I want to dance for Jesus. I’m homeschooled, and my favorite subject is writing. I hope you enjoy reading my thoughts, and that they glorify God!
Now, we send out a heartfelt
“THANK YOU!”
-just for reading our first post!

SOLI DEO GLORIA!