Zip! Bang! OBU!

Well, dear readers, I am now fully installed in Kerr Residence Hall at Oklahoma Baptist University. Welcome Week is over and classes have started today. I can only say things all happened so very fast. In a moment I was moved into my room, given an ID #, saying goodbye to my family, and running around with a green and gold beanie.
Loneliness tends to try and creep its way into my heart lately these days, but the Lord has continuously reminded me in real ways that He is always by my side. "Do not be afraid, for I am with you" (Isaiah 43:5).
I have been forced to ask myself, "Have I really placed my complete and total confidence in my Maker? Do I trust Him to see me through?" Saying yes to the previous is only one part of truly answering the question, I now must let the manner in which I daily live out my life be in concordance with my words. And that part of answering the question is a daily fight against self.
I speak hopelessness.
He speaks new life.
I speak fear.
He speaks light that casts out all fear.
I utter, "How?'
He pulls me up, whispering, "Through ME. through ME. all things through ME."
I am your Shepherd.
You have all that you need.
Let's go for a walk. I will let you rest in green meadows, leading you by quiet streams.
When you walk through dark valleys, don't be afraid, for I am here. I am near. I am right...here.
My rod and my staff keep you safe, holding you close.
Put away your paper dishes and come sit down at my table.
Let me call you Chosen One, pouring out all I am for you 'til your glass overflows.
Abounding goodness. Infinite Love. No end. No goodbyes.
My House is yours. Forever.


(Ps.23)

Technicolor.

I really never thought this day would come, and now it's here! Tomorrow morning I move in to room 403 in Kerr Dormitory at OBU.

My bags are packed and everything I own is crammed into my own personal U-haul, otherwise known as Mooreland's church van. I'm really hoping that I won't be the only girl who has a seemingly infinite amount of stuff to carry up four flights of stairs. When you move from across and entire continent and ocean away, you can't exactly leave boxes at Mom and Dad's place.

The anticipation is like nothing I've ever felt before, like pioneering unchartered territory. This new beginning is my chance to start fresh. No old high school drama. No returning to the same dreadful teachers or classrooms. No, "oh that's the blonde missionary girl, from Oklahoma, who wears overalls and is really bad at Math!" ......  I now have the opportunity to courageously approach an unfamiliar face with one simple fact, "I'm Karrington." In fact the entire campus will be flooded with names tomorrow, and I am very much looking forward to discovering the beings that are behind those names.

There are worries too, but they pale in comparison to my excitement and curiosity.
God has faded all my fears to a grey and brought forth the newness that lies before me in technicolor. Now that's Artistry.

3,000 words.

Persistance.

I'm sure by now those who read this here blog have discovered that I am not exactly the most dedicated blogger on the planet. It has been quite a while since I have taken the time to sit down and write. 

Yet to write, one must live, and living I have been. A little less than a month gone by, and we've covered hundreds of miles driven down the 160 degree scorching highways of Texas and Oklahoma, including a whirlwind trip to Orlando where Mickey Mouse dubbed himself king. 

We go from proper sit-down dinners and the colossal malls of Arlington to the thirsty farm country and games of flash-light tag in Oklahoma. To say the least it has been exhilarating and exhausting. 

In all the chaos and transitions, I find myself being easily swayed this way and that. Pushed and pulled by each new difficulty and change. This past Sunday, my family and I attended the first Baptist church of Orlando. Urged to sit up close, I found myself on the second row of the extensive line of pews that seemed to be bowing down at the sight of the enormous organ pipes and impressionable baptistry. My heart hard, I prepared myself for yet another dolled-up service.

But I was in for something completely different... 

The worship band began to play. Songs I know and love, at a tempo that wasn't sleepy. The exact kind of music I had been waiting for all summer filled the room, and my heart let free. 

Then God slapped me across the face with a hard truth. 

The pastor stepped to the front, and looking the congregation dead in their eyes, he asked, "Are you worshipping God or are you worshipping a substitute?" He went on to elaborate that in the body of Christ there seems to be some confusion. Confusion about what "worship" really is, and how/who we are worshipping. Is it only because of the band played the right song, or because the lights were toned just right that we let loose and praise Yaweh? Do we lift our hands to God because we are in awe of the lead singer's voice, or because we desperately desire to hear His voice? 

As the pastor spoke, conviction rang throughout my entirety. I have let myself desire after my favorite style of worship music more than God Himself. I have sought to feel moved as I gaze out at a worshipping church, rather than seeking God to move within my own heart. I've fallen in love with worship, but pushed the only One worthy of it off stage. I let the means of worship become the end. 

Never have I felt the words of a pastor apply so clearly to my very situation. It was humbling. 

After he finished, something happened that I thought was impossible in an American Baptist church.... 

The pastor sat down and one single pianist sat down at the Grand and began to play this song: 

Then the piano faded and 3,000 people began to sing out to God completely acapella. No organ. No piano. No drums or electric. No lights. Just the undying words, "Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee. How great thou art! How great thou art!" 

And how great He is, that He would time such a sermon as that to speak into the lives of those who need it most. Justifying the ungodly and humbling those who think they've got it all figured out, He reminded me that He alone should be the object of affections. Not the things that represent Him, but Himself. 

This is getting to be a long post, so please bear with me as I tell you about the final "cherry on top". 

That evening that same church was having their very first worship service on Cocoa Beach. Our family was already planning to spend the day there and so we decided to go. About 300 people or so showed up, gathered on Cocoa's shores and sang praises to God who holds the ocean's His hands. The waves crashed, children were running into them like bumblebees delighting themselves in a botanical garden. What an abundant time of joy it was to witness the start of something so new and excited for this church.  I prayed that the grains of sand I stood on then and there would soon be walked on by new followers of Christ who might come to know Him through that unique outreach. 

So as fun as Disneyworld was, I have to say, that Sunday beat Magic Kingdom by far. I went to Florida expecting little more than a fun time at a theme park, and returned blessed beyond what I ever would have thought. One thought arose as I said goodbye to the sticky peninsula, "Almighty God has held nothing back from me. How then can I hold anything back from Him?" 

If you're reading this I just pray that you might ponder that conclusion and picturing the vastness of the seas remember that the abundant grace of God exceeds its extensive watery expanses.