Sunday, March 18, 2012

Do You See It??


“Do you see it?”

It was a phrase he would use often as our team worked diligently to complete projects and build the foundations for dreams.  Jon, the camp manager at Campimento del Caribe in Puerto Rico, repeated it over and over again during my spring break missions trip in 2010.

We were on a building/project/service missions trip, putting in many working hours on the site of one of the only (if not the only) Christian Camps on the island.  We spent much of our time digging trenches and laying concrete for what would be the camp’s new water slide (a HUGE deal on the island).  The previous waterslide – in it’s shabby, rickety, and terrifying form was a surprisingly big draw for kids from Juana Diaz (where the camp was located) and all across Puerto Rico.  Kids who would then have the chance to hear the Gospel; to learn about and experience the Jesus who loves them.  Kids we would never meet.  Projects we would not ourselves finish.  The realization that what we were doing was still important.

Do you see it?

To grasp hold of a vision and to claim it.  To claim it in such a way that though we were but part of the beginning of what would be, we could see the end.  To be part a part of the journey and invest in the process while surrendering the outcome. 

Do you see it?


Not long ago...a few weeks at best, my trip leaders from two years ago (in preparation to lead the 2012 trip back to the island) sent the whole of the 2010 team - my teammates and I - a message with an update.  One where they thought we would like to know that the project we spent hundreds of total man (and woman!) hours on a couple years ago had finally been finished with a relatively impressive end.  Real tubing replaced the previous tarp-lined boards and a towered stair case and...it was done.  The foundation we had laid finally meant something. 

But it was more than that.  At least for me.  Because the message update came with the reminder of the words “Do you see it?”  Words said over and over during that week which now seems so long ago.  And before the message ended a final greeting was given “thanks for your hard work way back then :)  Hope you are all well with all the paths you have taken in life.  [We] hope and pray that you are still seeking after God...even in the silent and dry times.” 

It was the intensity of the final words that struck me.  Here I was trying to get a grip on the reminder of a powerful trip and the combination of the words “do you see it?” finding fruition and then individuals I both love and respect and whose opinions and insights I value signed off with something which seemed so innocent but was far from it.  With a hope and a prayer that we were still seeking God – even in the silent and dry times. 

As someone who was/is in a season of needing to be reminded to seek especially in silent and dry times (of which there have been many – especially lately), those closing words were the same challenge of the Puerto Rico trip, of the updated message.  They were words to challenge that which I couldn’t currently fathom.  A prayer to seek was a challenge to look at life as it was and to ask myself “do you see it?”

Do you see it?

Anika...Are you capable of looking at what is and staking claim on a vision of the end?  One where you embrace the journey and surrender the outcome?  To live in the hope and promise of what could be?

Silent and dry times are the hardest.  It’s easy to grasp a vision and to “see it” in the middle of a intense, rewarding missions trip.  It’s easy to see it when you can look out a blue sky with a shining sun and listen to the birds sing and subsequently feel like you are partaking in the conversation of the heavens.  It’s easy to take hold when you’re feeling nourished, refreshed, and fed into.  When the people you need to feed into you are present; when you feel a sense of direction and purpose; when you have the inclination that what you do matters and makes a difference. 

But what about when you’re not?  When you don’t?  When try as you might, you can’t?  When you are instead standing in the silent and dry...  Can one sit in sun scorched lands and lift a head to the heavens to smile screaming “do you see it!” Now there, there’s a different challenge entirely.  “Look!  See!  Can’t you see it!  Not a mirage with empty hope.  The reality! Do you see it?  Do you see what could be?  Can you take hold of a vision and live in the hope of it regardless of whether or not you can control the outcome?  Do you see it?  Do you see what God’s going to do?  Do you see that He’s up to something big?  Something bigger than you or I and certainly bigger than either of us can fathom?  Do you see it...”.

I don’t always see it and I don’t know that I see it now.  Life isn’t always that easy.  Faith isn’t always that easy.  Sometimes life is hard and sometimes it hurts and sometimes grasping hold of something bigger than the day to day (which hardly seems like laying the foundation for anything – let alone a masterpiece) seems nearly impossible.  Especially when you’d have to admit that any masterpiece that might result includes the shambles of who you know yourself to be. 

And yet... a gentle voice calls.  The same way it has been calling since God spoke to his weary and scattered Israelites... “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.  See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you now perceive it [do you see it?]?  I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wastelands [I’m here and speaking and providing in the silent and dry times].  The wild animals honor me, the jackals and owls, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I have formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise...”  (Isaiah43:16-21)

I Am.  And I Am here.  I have formed you for myself.  And you are Mine.  You are part of what I have already begun.  

Do you see it...?

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Protest to Praise: A Story and Now a Tattoo!


The "tat" - just post inking.
(pics courtesy of best friend and fellow tattoo adventurer and commiserate, Liz. :D)    



So yes, this is it friends, I was finally...

Inked!

For those of you unfamiliar with this word as a noun (*cough* Faith Wick), to be ‘inked’ traditionally refers to the act of being tattooed (or perhaps having a pen explode upon your person in a grand display). 

It’s official, I have a tattoo. 

It is something I’ve wanted for several years and have had formally decided upon for close to the last two.  I had the college itch.  The one which dared me square in the eye to do something crazy – like get a tattoo.  I had both support and criticism alike from any variety of people (surprises on both fronts!) but I assured both sides I would hold off on a tattoo until I knew exactly what I wanted and where I wanted it without a degree of hesitation.  I wanted my tat to say something real and true.  To be meaningful. To be me.

If you know me at all, you are aware of my love for a couple of things: words [stories] and symbolism. And, when possible, their intersection.   It was in discussing these thing with a few friends at camp one summer in conjunction with my draw to get inked that a camp counselor (a couple decades my senior) looked at me and said “Anika, you of all people should get a tattoo if you want one!  The best tattoos are ones which tell a story!  And girl, you have a story!  Decide on something that tells your story and go for it!” 

So the question became...what told my story? 

It took a surprisingly short amount of time to draw a decisive conclusion.  It was the middle of 2008.  Smack dab between “thyroid cancer take one” and “thyroid cancer take two: the continuing story”.  I rotated constantly between KNOWING God’s faithfulness and provision and the feeling as if He were so very distant and disconnected from who I was and what I was going through.  The same now on some epic and larger (or so it felt) cancer scale as it had, well, always. 

On my “WOW 2002” CD (don’t judge, I know it’s old!) – there was a hidden track.  It was something I almost never made it to the end of the CD to listen to and did't think much of it.  But I caught it my freshman year of college as I sought to redefine what life would look like then and so the song “Protest to Praise” became my theme song throughout that year.  A song I could relate to.  A song where the band (DownHere), the singer, spent time wrestling with where God was and when He was going to show up.  With the air of a psalmist, however, the singer interjects his own searchings to say he will cry out until he, himself, has a change of heart.  Until he goes from protest to praise.  Because, you see, God hadn’t checked out of who he was or what he going through...and he was confident God was going to see him until the end. 

In a nutshell, that’s just it!  That’s my story.  The song spells it out but those three words say it all.  Protest to Praise is in fact the epitome of my story.  Until I go from protest to praise.  Until I recognize who I am (Anika Joy Kasper - no more, no less), and how small I am, and WHO’S I am...  Until I realize that in all of the life I know and sometimes hate; of all of the life I sometimes feel like the God I love so much has checked out of... He hasn’t.  Life is still about surrender.  It’s taking the life that I know and giving it back to One who was holding it in the first place.  It’s praising in the midst of hell and high water, in the midst of things in life that no one will blame me for calling crap, and deciding that God is worthy of my praise anyway.  That He is still God.  

So often in my life I need to go from protest to praise...and too often I find myself going from praise back to protest before I’m brought back to praise.  It’s my story.

And my story?  It’s now on my foot.  Because my story is my journey, where I’ve been and where I’m going and [again with the symbolism], I couldn’t think of a better place it should be. 

On my foot the phrase “Protest to Praise” is followed by the reference to “Romans 5:3-5” which simply reads "Not only so but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”  [Btw, while I've memorized the traditional NIV and such are the words I know and love, however I SO appreciate the way it is worded in The Message...]

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this was the verse claimed for me, and then later one I was able to claim, while going through cancer.  It says that whatever I think I’m stuck in now, I can take it to good measure because in it is hope.  Yep.  Hope. 

The tattoo itself?  Yeah, it hurt.  I would be lying to say it didn’t.  (Although it wasn’t nearly as painful as I expected nor as painful as any one of my surgeries).  Part of me was glad it hurt.  The process in the story behind it hurt. Terribly. Who would want it any other way?

Permanent?  Yes.  Regrettable?  Not a chance.  How can I regret a constant reminder of God’s faithfulness in my life?  I can’t.  Plus, in all reality...it holds a story that must be told...


Protest to Praise – DownHere

I knew the times would come
And now the times have landed
With stinging abrasion
As ready as I seem to be
It's never like I planned it, yeah

I'm wrestling my thoughts I'm overcome
Would you give me up I'm asking Lord
There's no where I sense Your presence here
So I will cry out, until I go...

From protest to praise
You're always amazing me
You're changing me slow, but surely
And You're going to see me to the end.

How long will I be
Forgotten by You forever?
Cuz you're not making sense here
Seems like an eternity has made a hoe between us, yeah

I'm wrestling my thoughts I'm overcome
Would you give me up I'm asking Lord
There's no where I sense Your presence here
So I will cry out, until I go...

From protest to praise
You're always amazing me
You're changing me slow, but surely
And You're going to see me to the end.

You're changing by slow but surely
I just can't help but see it that way...
Cuz you're going to see me to the end.