Week at the Creek - Part 1

So I’m being held hostage by DHL.  Well, not technically.  But I can’t leave until they deliver my laptop, so I feel like a hostage in my own home!  I have been nervously listening for the door all day.  I’ve really never had great luck with deliveries when I think about it.  It’s like they’re playing a game of “let’s see how fast we can knock and run away”….ugh.

I feel like I am starting to recover from camp.  If you’ve never been to Falls Creek - it’s an other-worldly experience.  Pretty much it’s own township with a post-office and everything.  I so enjoyed a week without television, radio, work, etc vying for my attention.  I remember telling someone a few weeks ago that I was looking forward to camp because I would finally get a break of sorts.  They looked confused when I said this and mumbled something like, “Yeah, right.  A week with teenagers and no sleep - some break!”  Well . . . I was right!  While it certainly wasn’t a physical break with the late nights, early mornings and constant noise - it was certainly a time of spiritual refreshment and renewal.  While I’d like to think that God sent me there to minister to the “youth of today”, truth be told - God sent me to camp to get me away and grab my attention.  I was a little taken aback at how my perspective of Falls Creek had changed from 6 years ago. 

I think I realized a couple major reason why we as Christ followers tend to feel dissatisfied, ineffective, and well - sleepy in our day to day lives.  One - we (me included) tend to forget our first love.  We tend to kind of glaze over the wonder and the power of the cross.  It just becomes an item on our list of “why we believe what we believe.”  They gave the first altar call of the week on Tuesday night.  I had not seen an altar call in awhile since it isn’t a practice of our previous and current churches.  It took my breath away to see a teenage boy literally running down the aisle.  Do you remember that feeling?  That “got to get there before I burst” feeling?  As I watched that young man and others rush down the aisle, a sob caught in my throat as incredibly vivid images of the night I came to Christ at Falls Creek some 14 years ago.  I do believe I fell in love all over again.  

Joel Engle led worship for the evening service and did an amazing job.  I learned a new song called “I Believe in You”.  One particular line said, “Your Cross Has Freed Me So Completely.”  Yes. I get that.  At sixteen years old I thought I really got that - at nearly 30 years old I get it so much more.  He freed me from past, present, and future.  I would never again be a slave to sin.  That’s incredible freedom!

Well, I think DHL is about to release me from its grip - I’ll share more over the next few days!

The Week in Review Preview

Hey ya’ll!  I’m back from camp, and I have so much to share with you!  Jason called yesterday to let me know that DHL attempted to deliver the new laptop . . . I so wish I could have brought it with me this past week so you could experience Falls Creek with me.  Still, I took plenty of notes and pictures to ensure some excellent posts.

As a preface, this has been an amazing week for me.  I asked God to show up and “do His thing” and, wow.  Did He ever!  As a veteran of The Creek both as a camper and staff person, I was fairly sure of what to expect.  From the moment we drove through the gate, my expectations were pretty much blown to bits.  God had much, much more in store that I could have dreamed or hoped. 

I’ve been a sponsor several times before and can truly say that the group from New Covenant Christian Church in OKC was the absolute best!   I was really impressed with this group of kids who came to camp with great attitudes and willing hearts.  In return for their willingness to ask, seek, and knock - God really produced an outpouring of His love on these kids. 

I feel really blessed to have been allowed the opportunity to spend the week with them.  I don’t know who learned more, them or me.  :) 

Anyway, more to come.  I desperately need some sleep and about a thousand more hugs from Jason and Jonah. 

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho . . .

Well, I am knee-deep in laundry trying to make sure I pack absolutely every stitch of comfortable clothing for my week at camp.  If this weekend’s weather is any indication for that of next week - it’s going to be a hot one!

We had a nice visit with my parents - it was a belated birthday party/pro-longed drop-off of the kiddo type deal.  We kissed Jonah good-bye and lectured him on the importance of “listen and obey.”  He didn’t look the least bit sad that we were leaving.  In fact he kissed us good-bye, grabbed my dad’s hand and yelled, “C’Mon Pawpaw, let’s go play!” 

I, on the other hand, tried not to cry.  Wimpy!  Oh well.  It was even worse when we got home and his room is all empty.  Jonah definitely fills the house with a certain energy that is noticeable when he’s not here.  The cat is overjoyed.  For her, this is a vacation from the constant, unwarranted and uninvited loving that Jonah gives her as well as the one-sided game of tag.

So, I plan to take notes while I am at camp and wish desperately that my laptop was here already.  I plan to bring back a wealth of blogging material to share with you all.  I am going to spend a week with over 5,000 teenagers - a blogger’s paradise! 

On a more serious note, please pray for me that I will be a great  sponsor for the girls and that we can get to know one another quickly since none of them know me.  Pray for open hearts and for comaraderie within the group.  Pray that I will get at least a little sleep and that i don’t miss my boys too much!

Until next week - Ciao!

 

 

 

The Creek

Falls Creek - 1920s

I leave for Falls Creek on Monday, and I’m a little nervous.  Is that strange?  It’s just been so long and so much in my life has changed since the last time I went to camp.  Jason and I took a group the summer of 2002.  That would be the last time I would see the old Falls Creek, Falls Creek as I remembered it.

I remember when The Sake of the Call campaign began, I had mixed feelings.  “Wow, they’ll have a/c.  Crazy!”  and “Wimpy kids.” to “Can’t anything stay the same?”  No, it really can’t I guess.  Now as a parent, I can understand why it would be preferable to have over 5,000 kids and adults sit in an enclosed, air conditioned building.  Guess I was a tad jealous too. 

I always get uber-nostalgic about Falls Creek.  I remember the first time I went, I was sixteen, lost as a goose and very nervous about being around that many Christian kids at once.  In fact, I didn’t even want to go to camp that summer.  I had been in Oklahoma for a year at that point, and my experience with the state was less than wonderful thus far.  My friend Jona and I were going through this hippie, listening to The Doors, we’re-too-cool-for-you-guys thing.  We wore funky clothes, Converse, and actually read books - for fun.  She was the one kid in town with who I could be me without apologizing for my “big city” ways and different style.  So we were singled out by the youth minister and Jona’s mom as “two girls who really needed to go to camp.”  My parents just wanted me gone for a week.  The sullen, “I hate everyone” act was getting on their nerves, and rightly so.

Jona and I wouldn’t ride the church bus.  How could we stoop so low?  Jona’s mom drove us and we complained the entire trip about how lame camp was going to be.  And then we got there.  I had only had one other youth camp experience in the fifth grade.  It was with my friend, Tammy, and it was a Pentecostal camp.  It was a strange experience and one I honestly didn’t learn much from except that Pentecostals are very enthusiastic people.

As we entered the camp grounds and got settled in, I could immediately sense a change - like that sly north wind in Chocolat - what God had begun in my heart that previous year was coming to a head. 

Not shockingly, I met a handsome boy not an hour into our first day of afternoon free time.  He was beautiful and smart, and a recent high school graduate.  Whatever was left of my chilly exterior just melted away that afternoon I babbled on about being from Austin, Texas and my favorite book - Les Miserables and how I just loved Nirvana.  While this romantic sub-plot was taking place, the real Romance swept me up as the week wore on.  I can’t say that it was a particular message during the evening service or a certain devotional that sent me tumbling into the Father’s arms - it was a culmination of many factors that I know God had set up to make my heart ready to believe, to open my eyes to my sinful condition and see a need for a savior, to fill me with hope and joy - to take everything I had ever known and show me something a million times better.

It was a Wednesday night, and we were having our after-service devotional.  My new “friend” had walked me back to my cabin just a half-hour before and in a shaded corner, at the bend of the road given me a sweet kiss - I swear I saw fireworks!  The devotional time turned into a time of confession amongst many in the youth group.  Our small town had experienced a tragedy that same year with a kid from our same youth group taking his own life after not taking his ADD medication for several days.  The kids were hurting.  I was hurting, but for completely different reasons.  Being new in a town where the majority of the other kids have grown up together like family is rough.  I wasn’t treated so nice for that first year, and I missed my friends from Austin terribly.  Yet, those friends had moved on with their lives while I felt stuck between two worlds.  I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere.   My parents weren’t getting along, and my middle sister was getting into trouble, running with the wrong crowd.  I literally felt like my life was falling apart, and that if there was a god - it was his fault.

Still, He wooed me relentlessly.  That Wednesday night my eyes opened, my ears heard, and my heart understood the beauty and the sacrafice - the love of the Cross.  At a time when I wasn’t sure that anyone loved me - I saw THAT love and I lept for it without a second thought.  In the corner of that dusty, cramped dining hall I quietly begged the Lord to forgive me of my sin and the take up residence in my heart. I believed! 

I have always loved stories in the New Testament when Jesus restored sight to the blind - because that’s how I felt, like scales fell from my eyes.  What was a world of flat, dull grays and blacks was now technicolor. 

Here I am, almost 15 years later still adjusting these eyes to the colorful majesty of His grace.  I hope and I pray that no matter what changes at camp that there’s a girl out there, just like me all those years ago, who is just waiting to fall in love.  I can’t wait!

                             Falls Creek - 2008

What’s Up - Chuck?

 

On the advice of my good friend and fellow blogger, Megan - WARNING:  Completely Disgusting Content Ahead. Beware!

Well hello friends.  It’s Thursday, and I had this big day planned complete with taking Jonah to Grandma Bev’s, working some at the church, writing, and Girl’s Night Out this evening.  All is canceled now except for writing and GNO (thank you, Lord!) 

I often wonder if the process of pregnancy and birth really does develop certain superpowers in the mother.  Or perhaps super senses is a better term.  Take this morning, for example.  I didn’t sleep well at all and was supposed to get up insanely early to go walk with Julie.  I woke up before 6 and stumbled downstairs to text her that I would not be coming.  Besides the fact that I was (and am) seriously tired, I just felt like I wasn’t supposed to go.  So I texted her and flopped down on the couch to try and go back to sleep.  Just as I had drifted off, I felt a tiny, warm hand shake my arm.  I pried my eyes open to see my baby boy looking pitiful.  “Why are you up Jonah?” I asked, adding, “It’s too early!”  He frowned and whimpered, “my tummy hurts mommy.”  Uh-oh.  He never says his tummy hurts which is a good indication that it really does.  So he laid down with me and we both fell asleep.  As he’s got his head on my chest, I feel for fever.  Nope.  That’s good.  

I am woken up what feels like seconds later, but really it’s 30 minutes.  “Mommy, I’m thirsty.”  I stagger to the dining room and give him a sip of water.  We stagger back to the couch and both fall back asleep.  15 minutes later….why?! I am wishing I was in a coma now - “Momma, I want another drink.”  I tell him to go get another drink.  He comes back, lays down, bolts upright and pukes on me.  Nice.  I’m awake now!  I rush him to the bathroom to finish what he started and scrub my arms from the elbow down like a surgeon.  At least it was watery vomit.  I realize that I am categorizing vomit.  Gag.

He lays back down . . . Jason ambles downstairs; I explain the situation and that I am going to take a shower.  Jason attempts to go into panic mode which I quickly disarm.  He is more motherly than I am sometimes. After a much-needed shower, I head downstairs to assess the situation.  Jason’s hem feel out of his left pant leg and Jonah looks tired and won’t eat.  I really didn’t envision my day going this way.  I find safety pins for Jason and get Jonah to drink some water.  Jonah drinks and then pukes all over the kitchen floor. Ugh. 

I clean up the puke while Jason cleans up the child, all the while brainstorming the possible causes of this sudden malady.  I have a second in my brain where I mentally stop and thank God for such an awesome husband.  He didn’t give helping me out a second thought.  We’re in this together.  He and I are handling the situation together.  I love him. 

So after running to Crest to get Pedialyte and crackers and calling Julie (yep, at 7:45am - what a saint!) to get her thoughts on the matter I return home, see Jason off to work and help Jonah get some sustenance.  I had to keep him from gulping the Pedialyte.  He thinks it’s Kool-Aid.  He seems fine now.  One hour since ingestion and no upchuck.  Yes!

So what’s my sixth sense?  I like to call it my “something’s wrong although I don’t know what” detector.  I like to think it works pretty well. 

Dear Nearly Married,

(This is in response to my sweet friend, Megan’s post asking for pearls of wisdom for her upcoming marriage . . . )

First and foremost, I pray that you are blessed with an overwhelming sense of enthusiasm, optimism, hope, and flexibility.  You’re in for the ride of your life (literally, your life!) but it is good.  Bittersweet at times, but good.  There is so much I would like to tell my nearly-married self some 7 years ago that might have saved me from some heartache, but then again, I also think that the hard times have led to sweet times and wisdom can’t be gained when all is wine and roses.

I’d say steer clear of negative talk.  There’s a lot of it.  In fact, someone who shall remain nameless even pulled Jason aside on our wedding day to tell him he still had time to back out.  Nice.  Let’s just say that person wasn’t an ace of relationships either.  Don’t get me wrong, marriage is hard and downright frustrating a lot of times.  Anytime you put two people together who, by their very nature, are completely different, there’s bound to be friction.  There’s also mystery and romance and friendship.

Fighting is to be expected.  Fight fair.  I’d highly recommend setting ground rules for when the knock-down-drag-outs do come.  Speak your mind, but do so in love.  Also a good tip when things start to get too heated and you’re tempted to throttle your spouse…just get naked.  It’s impossible to fight with a naked person, and it inevitably leads to make-up sex. 

On your wedding day - ENJOY IT!  You (and/or) your parents paid a butt-load for it, so for pete’s sake have a good time.  Eat your cake, drink your punch, dance . . . let someone else stress about the details.  All that matters is your man standing at the end of the aisle anyway.  Bridezilla need not rear her ugly head - because that’s a good indication that you’re focusing on the wrong things.  Just reax.  Breathe.  Kiss you man.  It will be okay.

Leave and cleave.  This is important.  If you’ve been skimming til now, stop.  You and your husband are a new family.  Don’t go crying to your family and friends every time you have a spat.  Boundaries are your friend.  Don’t throw your spouse under the bus to make you look better, because you always end up looking worse.

Love and Respect.  Best marriage book we ever read.  In fact, it revolutionized our marriage.  You desire love; he desires respect.  Stay off of the crazy cycle - you disrespect him, he acts unloving to you so you disrespect him, then he acts unloving to you….see what I mean?

Just remember that your wedding day is not going to be the most important day of your married life - just one of many.  Have grace - lots of it.  Don’t diss your girlfriends, they will always be important and necessary.  Be flexible and willing to change.   Be ever more intimate with God - a cord of three strands is not easily broken (Eccl 4:9-12) 

Hope that helps….I know it’s scatterbrained and all, but after 7 years I have enough to write a book of my own.

Now go get Hitched!

 

Crystal

 

Can I Get a Witness?

Jason is out of town for the day/evening doing some side work.   God is good.  Lord knows we all need extra money right now.  We have budgeted down to the penny and are being uber-frugal - then we pray.  He provides in the most mysterious ways!  In this case, Jason will be filming a kick-boxing match at an Indian Casion.  He was actually pretty excited.  The down side?  Me and the kiddo are all alone without any expendable income for the day. 

So we hit the library!  Since I was a little girl, the library has been a favorite place of mine.  It just teems with endless possibilities.  I love a good story, a good recipie, a new lesson, and new anything.  To think that God gave us the ability to place our thoughts, our very hearts on paper to share with the world is amazing. 

I love to stroll through the aisles and scan the titles, hoping that something will catch my fancy.  I hate looking for any particular title - too much work.  I like to let a good book discover me.  Today it was Idoleyes:  Mandisa - My New Perspective on Faith, Fat, and Fame.  This one has been on my “To Read” list, along with about 100 others, for awhile.  I was excited to have found it and plunked the book into my bag. 

I got Jonah home and settled him down for a nap after reading a Rosemary Wells (I just love her!) book and No Roses for Harry.  Then I raced downstairs to get reading.  I was pleasantly surprised to read an awesome foreword by Beth Moore whose writing I have come to love.  In the first few chapters Mandisa shares her testimony.  While I love to read and listen to many things - there is little better than a testimony of what God has done in the life of a person. 

As I read her testimony of how she came to know the Lord and eventually how she came to work at Lifeway in Nashville and then to lead worship at Beth’s Living Proof Live conferences, I was flooded with memories of my own and amazed at how God crosses the paths of people and works simultaneously in the lives of His children. 

In August of 2005 I was living in Nashville (Antioch to be exact) with Jason and Jonah, who was then a little over a year old.  I had bee working for the YMCA of Middle Tennessee for over a year in the nursery, Jason with Marriott, and we attended Judson Baptist Church.  With good jobs, great friends, and an awesome church - things looked very good on the outside for our little family, but they really weren’t - not at all. 

When a child is thrown into the mix of an already tumultuous marriage, two unfulfilled people struggling to be whole, things can get a little rocky.  Jonah was a joy.  A sweet baby, who brought a whole new level of love into our lives that neither of us had ever experienced.  We also discovered in ourselves a whole new level of selfishness that we hardly knew existed.  Both hurt by the other and battling it out with a host of unreal expectations, we struggled to keep up the facade of the happy Christian couple.  We did most of our fighting while Jonah slept.

That summer, I got invited to go to a Living Proof Live event in Knoxville with our women’s group at church.  Jason had the weekend off, so he agreed to me going.  I talked a dear friend of mine who was experiencing the devastation of divorce to come with me.  I boarded the bus that Friday morning hopeful and unsure of what to expect. 

As we rolled into Knoxville some 3 hours later - it was teeming with women.  All kinds of women, and not just big-haired, pedal-pusher wearing, thirty and forty somethings either!  I think there were 20 something thousand there from all over the South for the 2 day conference.  I had done a Beth Moore study once a long time ago, and liked it.  Still, I thought she must have something special for this many gals to come see her talk.  I had no idea.

You see, the thing is that Beth didn’t have anything particularly special to offer (no offense!  She would tell you that herself!) She is just a humble servant, albeit a funny one, who has devoted her life to recklessly abandoning herself to God.  She’s just nuts about him.  She’s desperate to know Him.  I sensed that from the moment she stepped onto the stage.  But before she spoke, the worship team led.  And OH did we worship.  It felt good.  It was freeing.  Unfettered by the responsibilities of home and the expectations of denomination - we just worshipped.  Loudly, passionately, joyfully.  There’s nothing like hearing 20 thousand women raise their voices to the Lord in one accord.  I get the chills just thinking about it!

I wish I could tell you what all Beth talked about that night, but I know the one thing that struck a match in my heart….did I have an enemy?  Was there someone in my life I hated?  Was that someone myself?  Yes and No.  Well, Yes and Yes.  One person who had become my arch-enemy was the very man I had pledged my life and love to, and the other was me.  At the end of the service, the screen in the middle of the arena flashed scriptures over and over reminding us of who GOD says we are.  I just wept.  All along I was hating my husband for wrongs he’s done to me, refusing to forgive and blaming him for everything wrong in our marriage.  God had me pegged good.  I just wept. 

That weekend culminated in a real turning point in my life with Christ.  I started to love Him in a whole new way and I began to desperately cry out for my marriage to be saved.  While it didn’t all happen right then and there, I started to believe God that He could do it if I could trust Him.

I know this post is already terribly long, just bear with me a little longer!  On the second day of the conference I noticed one of the worship singers as she began to belt out a song that I loved Shackles by Mary Mary.  This girl could wail!  Her voice was commanding, powerful, and absolutely gorgeous.  She sang it like she meant it.  It wasn’t just a good song, it was a testimony!  My soul testified with hers and it still does.  Every time I hear that song, I have to crank it up and sing along.  You cannot imagine my delight and surprise when I saw that same girl - Mandisa - auditioning and making it onto American Idol that same year.  I was and continue to be one of her biggest fans!

Needless to say, I’m loving the book.  We’ve come a long way girl, and we have a long way yet to go. 

 

Phil 4:7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus

 I was sitting in the mall yesterday waiting to meet up with a friend when I heard Steven Curtis Chapman’s newest single “Cinderella” playing over the loudspeaker.  The song he wrote for his daughters. 

I found that I am still very connected to the Nashville community as I received several emails over the course of Thursday morning sharing the tragedy the Chapman family has faced with the accidental death of their youngest daughter, Maria.  How blessed that family is to have such a wonderful community and church worldwide lifting them up to the Father. 

As I sat there listening to that song in the middle of the mall and looking at my own young son, I simply asked God to fill their family with the peace that passes all understanding.  Because when something like this, so tragic and so senseless happens, it is undoubtedly beyond human understanding. 

Psa 23:4  “Even when I walk through the dark valley of death,* I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.”

Rom 15:13  “So I pray that God, who gives you hope, will keep you happy and full of peace as you believe in him. May you overflow with hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Ecc 11:5 “God’s ways are as hard to discern as the pathways of the wind, and as mysterious as a tiny baby being formed in a mother’s womb.”

 

Yes’m, old friends is always best, ‘less you can catch a new one that’s fit to make an old one out of. (Sarah Orne Jewett)

I’m over it.  My husband will be glad to hear this, and more glad to see me actually follow through.  I’ve been struggling with a particular relationship that has gone down hill for no apparent reason.  No matter what I do, it doesn’t appear that it will recover, and I cannot figure out for the life of me how I wronged the other party; they sure aren’t going to tell me. 

Yesterday I had one of those “final straw” moments and after blathering about it to Jason and listening to his advice, I agreed that it was time to lay it down and move on.  Still, it hurts to do this.  I am fiercely loyal as a friend, armed with tenacity and a heartful of idealistic notions.  I just wanted things to be rosy, and they are far from it. 

C.S. Lewis: “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You, too? Thought I was the only one.”

Does anyone else want to admit that they struggle with a desire to be liked by all?  Don’t be so quick to sneer; some of us do.  This particular friendship had all the markings of a long and prosperous one.  We have known one another for a long time, and when I moved back from Tennessee, you can imagine that I was eager to make friends. 

I love my husband, but a woman always needs her girlfriends. 

I’m thinking now about my little angry post over how disappointed I was with Prince Caspian.  I can’t help but wonder if what was really driving that was this situation.  It’s difficult to see your expectations come crashing down around your ears.  Nothing was like I thought it would be, which is a hard thing and a beautiful thing all at the same time.  Because while this particular friendship has all but fizzled out, I’ve been so incredibly blessed by a host of other incredible new friends through our new church home Realchurch.  I’ve got a good relationship with my in-laws, who I’ve never really known since we’ve always lived far away. My marriage is truly the best it’s ever been.  I am a friend of God.

Yup, it’s about that time to press on and  shake the dust from my feet. 

Romans 5:11 “So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God - all because of what our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us in making us friends of God.”

Sing it, Baby!

Last night was a very important night for the Zaragoza family.  Jonah had a childhood milestone - his first school recital.   We talked it up and he practiced his songs (not much at home, he gets all flustered when we put him on the spot) and he chose a special outfit for the occasion - his (really it was mine) Michael Jackson t-shirt, jeans, and his brown shoes.  We fixed his hair like he wanted and even took him to Taco Bell to get spicy rice.  He was ready - or so we thought.

 

We took him to his class and then milled around making introductions and waiting for Jason’s mom and our friend, Raina to appear.  Once seated we watched a video of all the kids at his school doing a song called “Fat Cat”  It was precious, and we got to see Jonah sing.  This video would be our only shot! 

After several adorable and pretty hilarious performances from other classes, it was Jonah’s turn!  He was on the end and looked completely terrified.  He did try to sing, a little, when his hand wasn’t in his mouth.  On the dancing part, he moved one leg.   I felt for him.  It immediately took me back to none other than my first recital. 

I was 4 at Bethany Lutheran Preschool in Austin, Tx.  It was a Christmas recital, and my mom put me in one of those cute, frilly dresses.  I had those awful plastic glasses and a ribbon tied in my hair.  Mom says I was okay til the song really got going.  My nervousness began to show as I crumpled one side of my dress in one hand til I had the danged thing pulled up to my hip.  At least I had tights on or everyone would have seen my Strawberry Shortcake undies, only adding to my humiliation.  So, I was glad that Jonah didn’t cry, throw up, or take his clothes off.

Even after it was over and he got a treat from his teacher, it was obvious he wanted to make like a baby and head out.  As I put him in the bath last night he finally perked up.  “Did I do good Mama?” he asked.  I just laughed, “You were awesome, Jonah.”

It pains me to think he got that little bit of stage fright from me, but at the same time, I love it that he saves his dance moves and silly songs for us.