Dear World

Dear world,

Apparently, I have diabetes. My body doesn't handle sugar very well. However, my diet has been mostly sugar since I was a babe. (Sugar includes bread, pasta, and pastries.) When I do eat sugar, my body reacts in a few ways: it makes me tired, anxious, and often puts me in a really bad mood. I've been experimenting with sugar now that i know. Come to find out, I'm a really happy and un-moody person when I refrain from sugar. Who knew.

I'm not disclaiming every bad mood I've had on sugar, because I am, in fact, a female and a sinner. However, I am blaming most of them on that.

So, therefore, i want to extend an apology to all persons I may have released my sugar maintenance failure on in the form of a bad mood or evil glare. It was, honestly, out of my control. Blame my pancreas.


Sincerely,
Kayla Dunkin

p.s. I am currently undertaking methods in which I can prevent moodiness and vengeance. Please, be patient with me. I'm trying to unaddict myself to bread, the only thing I actually enjoy eating.

clarity

An experience bringing clarity into your life may be one of the most satisfying experiences possible.

Realizing:
that a complex series of symptoms like mad heartburn, tiredness, and anxiety were just the result of a simple food allergy.
that a snowball of events was just to lead to another subsequent event that would change your life for the better. Like changing majors.
Or that the feelings of separation from fellowship with God were just a call to repentance of unconfessed sin.
or that your deepest need has been taken care of through the completed work of Christ if indeed you hold on in faith to its reality.

Clarity: pray for it.

disconnect

I don't know if I've ever felt this spread out. Not really with activities and classes, just with people. The community that I have in Statesville, that I grew up with and love, that I wish I could see daily, I see them just monthly, if that. My sister's in Texas, Snook, Texas. and pregnant. In Chapel Hill, I have so many friends that I love and who I know love me, but I can't make myself see them enough. If I see one of them, I have to give up seeing another. If I spend time with one group of friends, I lose precious bonding moments with another and feel disconnected with them later. I'm trying to stay close with so many people, that I'm disconnected with all of them.

uh-oh.

stop.

We can stop trying to make something of our lives: that's already been done. Christ.

We can stop trying to do things that will assure ourselves of our relationship with God: that's already been done. Christ.

We can stop blaming ourselves for the dust that our lives have become. Everything will return to dust. But our lives will one day be made complete: in Christ.

How do we let days, even weeks, go by that we don't remember Christ and the REST that can be given to us?

"Rest in Christ is the mark of a Christian, confidence in Christ's sufficiency, not ours."

fall

On a sunny day, a blue house is a blue house,
a red Coca-cola truck: just a truck.
But on a quiet day,
when the rain has stolen color from the sky,
they are vibrant symphonies.

There is beauty in the trial
that is worth seeing,
and song in the quietness
to the listening ear.

Elisabeth Elliot is my hero. I should go old school and read the Bible more often.

"But how could I ever go to heaven? I'm naughty."
-12 year old kid

We should never grow out of our understanding that we're naughty. Even kids know this: We are in serious need of a Savior.

You were running well, why did you stop?


I'll be patient
child.

I'm always telling myself I'm not doing good enough.

Is it true? Or is it religion trying to stay around?

How do we rest in what we are doing while staying confident that it's not what we do that brings salvation? I know it has to go hand in hand, but I find it paradoxical.


"Return o faithless sons; I will heal your faithlessness." Jeremiah 3:22

some kind of something

She had a song and sang it well, a voice with words worth hearing
But others thought her song was weak and screamed with words overbearing.
Soon all she heard were screams, her song became so faint.
She tried to keep her song in the mind, but there all that kept were lies.

With desperate hope she turned to their screams and tried to scream along,
but she lost herself and her life in the noise, her voice became
silent.
No song to sing, no voice or scream. Just quiet and still, her apathy.

On a quiet day, she heard a voice that spoke as she once did.
It's sound was sweet, gracious, and "mercy from first to last"*,
It echoed the mystery from where her voice came and reminded her to rest.
"Be still sweet child, and follow ME, with grace I'll bring you home."

The song she had sung did not come from herself, or from the screams of strife.
but from her Maker's mouth came honey, with beauty and words for life.



Where do you get your song?

GlennBeck on Social Justice

I have recently heard alot about "social justice", especially in the Christian sphere. As an ignorant college student, I ran with this term without thinking about where it came from and the implications of it. I thought it was just the overarching term to use for things that the church should be doing: helping the poor, feeding the hungry, etc.

Apparently, this term is being used by political leaders to imply other social justices that the church does not agree with. For example, "social justice" to a feminist means promoting the right for women to have abortions. For homosexuals, "social justice" means allowing them the right to gay marriages.

Political leaders have even begun to encourage the churches to preach social justice to win influence within the realm of the church. BUT they are not promoting the type of action in our communities that the Bible commands, they are preaching socialism.

Glenn Beck talked about this in his show Tuesday May 18th (if you haven't seen it, you should look it up on fox news) He goes into detail about how this term is being used to promote a socialist government. George Washington would be rolling over in his grave.

Leaders have even used the verse from Acts 4:12, where the early church gave to everyone as they had need, to promote their actions. They now want to take from the wealthy and "redistribute the wealth" to the poor.

This concept is beautiful if the church takes individual responsibility for it and by our own will chooses to do this. BUT this concept is dangerous if the government controls what we give by taking from us what is ours, not allowing us to give if we so desire.

That is the beauty of our country: we have the ability to work hard and earn money if we so desire. Individuals can then take the money they own and give it, by their own charity, to those in need.

The church in Acts 4:12 was not giving to one another because of the government. They had nothing to do with it. It was out of their own free will as they were acting in response to the Gospel in their own lives, for Christ changes the heart of individuals who join together in the beautiful body of the church to love their surrounding community. When the government gets involved, this "will be the death of our churches" as it will no longer be charity out of free will.

So watch out for the term "social justice". The government does not need to get involved with what the church does, as it will destroy our abilityto be the church. It will destroy our ability to earn money and give it away if that is our desire. (Which should be the desire of the church, and if it is not, than this may be a fault in our American churches.)

poetry class again

So this is for poetry class, but because God is so relevant to your life, always, the idea of this poem is incredibly relevant to what I'm learning about being a Child of God--that we will "share in His [Christ's] glory".(romans8) Took me sometime to chew on this...but glory is the opposite of shame.. Christ has taken our shame away through the cross... we are therefore glorious in Him. Not that we deserve praise, but that being in this glory as God's children we shout praises to the Glorious God as we, ourselves, are meant to be inglorious but instead redeemed by beautiful grace.


You can laugh, it's about a horse. Just go with it.



Inglorious Soil

Heartbeat, your hooves, my pulse, thunder.
Halt at the fence. This barrier. Abrupt, splash,
beneath those hooves. Your legs, astute soldiers with
Potential to kill.

But Your face, those calm, brown, collected eyes offer me grace to stand before You.
Compelled to reach toward velvet nose, my hand intimidated by the
heat from flaring nostrils. Your gaze remains,
Respect, demanded.

Turned to field, those movements, my eyes’ compass. A conquest in
each breathe, in each step, in each blow to the ground.
No wonder why mud, inglorious, submits to
Your authority,

And why I abandon this soil, unstable, to ride
In such glory.

This Word

"...and with your blood you purchased men for God
from every tribe and language and people and nation."
-Revelation 5:9

learnin the balance

SPRING BREAK went to Nawlins, Louisiana with some of the most rockin people I know from UNC chapel hill's Cornerstone!!! We demolished a nursing home so that it could be rebuilt.. crazy how people are still suffering from 'ol Katrina. Another part of our group worked with the KIPP schools, a fantastic program started by a teaching fellow to help underprivileged kids. They're pretty rockin I heard, with a really high percentile of their students being accepted into college.

God's been teaching me how to love "the oppressed" in tangible ways. Like Tim Keller said.. the gospel and justice, they're like two wings of an airplane for accomplishing the same task.

Helping "the oppressed" should be the tangible results of being affected by the Gospel, while the Gospel should always be on our lips, ready to "give an answer to the hope that we profess", in a very urgent way.

I don't know how, for the longest time, I thought that taking care of tangible needs were just frivolous and secondary, and the only thing necessary was to share the words of the Gospel..
Well, Jesus fed the hungry and healed the leper too.

(BUT we must not lose our urgency in sharing the gospel with a world that will die without it. Helping those in need is frivolous if we do not share the gospel with them.)

...der

So one time, I had my nose peirced, for 4 days

Venting.

We leave our pride and our declaration that we think we are best.

We turn away from our performance that shoves a fist at your grace.

We give up knowledge that you may teach us rightly.

We give up vanity so that the world may see your beauty.


Have mercy on us, for we are a generation that is obsessed with ourselves. Don't let us steal your fame.

(Jesus Christ, that is, the name deserving glory.)

"i'm really lucky"

holy smokes. heard someone's story today that should be a movie. want to tell it, but feel like i shouldn't say the details... it involves walking through a jungle to another country ..for a month..with a baby..running away, and their village being burned. the person finally made it to america where they're living in freedom.. america's pretty awesome after all.

at the end of the story, they decided that they were "pretty lucky" to be alive, far less to be america.

happy old man

happy old man, looks to be 60 years old, walking down the hallway with a cart. on that cart, a laptop, playing music, a combination of north carolina bluegrass and accordian influenced austrian folk. Interesting. Physics teacher i believe, plaid shirt, dancing goofily like he was entertaining a four year old, massive smile on his face. I laugh at him, he laughs back, louder, let's say a loud chuckle. one of those moments you live for, really.

Results of poetry class:)

assignment was to write about a past memory in blank verse... this is about a village i went to this summer in Jordan:) wonderful memory.

"Not Just Sand"
The houses where are they? All I see is sand.
Sheep in a cluster, their shepherd in black,
A ghost-like apparition. Closer now,
A child running with a ball. A cloud
Of dust, obscures the source of it; not just
One child, a flock. More children run with him.
Dirt flying, sand stinging, their laughter I
Can hear. The ghost-like apparition, it's
A woman. Floating toward me, her hijab
Flaps in the wind, like a flag, a black flag.
Her face appears beneath. Her lips are fixed,
Eyes deep and black; her pointy jaw and cheek
Bones well-defined, a look suspecting me
To speak: "Peace be upon you", in her own tongue.
Her eyes now kind, her cheek bone softened with
A smile, for hospitality is in
Her nature. Her house emerges from beneath
The cloud of dust. A village under dust.
A school, a mosque, a garden, a hospital.
A circle of women clothed in flags, black flags,
I'm welcomed with a cup of tea, a kiss
Of mint. The smell of rice and chicken,
A dinner prepared for me. A brother holds
His sister in his arms. The father says
I am his daughter. This is not just sand.

Don't just listen.

tonite i began to sing one of my favorite songs from high school that i used to play on my guitar-- "Simply to the cross". I can not even count the number of times that I've played that song, far less heard it, but somehow in the midst of acquiring it as "one of my favs" I failed to apply that song to my heart. "Jesus, you will never fail".. and "Jesus, you are all I need" my ears somehow failed to hear.

"Mercy's found a way for me, Hope is here as I am free." (part of the song's chorus)

What joy there is that statement, for CHRIST IS all that we need. I heard JD Greear speak this weekend and he said that all people were made with a longing for something else, and other people are incapable of filling that longing. We were made to be satisfied in Christ and to find our fullness in Him.

SOmany times throughout my day I get upset, disappointed, for I fail to find fulfillment in my relationships with people, they fail to satisfy me.
They arenot able to satisfy, never will be able.
Christ satisfies, and in him there is fullness. THIS is joy.

quit listening.
open your ears and hear.

uncommon rejoicing

PSALM 82:3 "Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy..."

The nations, they're suffering.

Living in carborro, nc, there is a community of Burmese refugees from Thailand. A group of students from unc have begun to go into that community to tutor the kids and help them learn english.

I heard about this and said, yeah of course I'll do it, it'll be a really good thing for me to do. Why would i not? Foreign company in chapel hill.. i SHOULD be there. I'll go once a week and help these kids with their homework, leave, and feel satisfied at my work. check. that was last semester. This semester, they became people, and I've seen something beautiful in them.

I won't say there names, but there are 5 kids, all precious beyond words. the youngest are the most joyous, but the oldest girl -- i see something in her eyes and words that tells a story. she rarely talks, but when she does she often tells stories of her past life in thailand, and when she's quiet, she seems distant, as if in thought about a place far from reach. We ask her about her friends, her school life, how she likes it here.. etc., and she'll nod like she's supposed to and force a smile, but her eyes say something different. She mentions that she misses her friends in thailand, and that she doesn't have friends here like she did there. She talks of mangos and guavas, and traditions they used to do.

Her high school had a dance tonite, but niether her nor her friends went. No, instead, their community was in remorse over a family member's death; a father of one of her friends had passed away after a 5 day hospital stay after falling down his steps. Tonite, me and my friends Katherine and Chelsea went to visit our little family, as their parents were both working. (Usually, the oldest girl is left to take care of her brothers and sisters.) We cooked spaghetti and brownies with them, it was a lovely evening. Then, we decided to go to their Friday night worship that was going to be in a nearby apartment. So we bundled up to leave, as we had just discovered that it had started to snow.

We ran wildly, threw snow at each other, with the young ones in our arms, laughing, squealing.

So we arrived at the apartment where they were meeting for worship. Welcomed with smiles, we joined the circular formation that they were gathered in on the floor. Each one was interested in our presence, giving us nods and moving around so that we would have more room than they had. The two lamps that served to light the room gave a cozy aroma, lighting each of their faces with warmth. There were three men at the focus of the room; an elderly man who didn't say anything after briefly looking at us, a middle aged man who i quickly learned was their pastor, and another middle aged man holding a guitar. He began to play. Their voices joined to sing praises to God, in Koren.

I had to remind myself I was in America, in north carolina, 10 minutes from my dorm.

Their voices, so genuine. so earnest. praise! As I tried to hum along, trying to find the harmonies as always, I looked around at the faces: mothers, daughters, sons, a father, cousins, friends. Large flakes of snow, floating past the window, an American flag on the wall, a poster of the koren alphabet, shoes piled by the door. The man playing the guitar was wearing a traditional skirt, and the young girls had trendy hair cuts. Then my eyes fell upon the elderly man that briefly looked at us. His foot was plastic, evidence of a previous tragedy; his story hinted by the eyes buried beneath fleshy eyelids, so uncommon to me.

Katherine leaned over and whisphered to me that this worship meeting was, in fact, dedicated to the family whose father had just died. Not 4 hours ago had they "done something" with the man's ashes, mourning. Praise is all I heard.

Then we prayed, not for the man who had died, but for those who had to continue to suffer, to work, to live life. The suffering these people have encountered, i am unfamiliar with. Here they were, singing praise to God, something they had learned to do, not in america. This rejoicing was a continuation of how they lived as refugees in Thailand.


The beauty of it, Isaiah says it all...

9:1 "Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress."

56:6 "and foreigners who bind themselves to the Lord to serve him, to love the name of the Lord, and to worship him ... these will I bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer."

51: 11 "The ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing wil flee away."


The nations, they're singing.

fieldtrip

Listen to the children laugh.
Their symphany stange to
the world of flaunting new
clothes, strutting in pomp.

The day is not about their
fame. Bugs and friends,
adventures and whims,
freedom not yet staled.

They have much to learn
we say.

This might not last..

This blog might not last, but I am in high hopes. High hopes that I'll put written things on here that are significant to my days. Some things will be reflective, some mocking, some probably way too serious. And even more significant, this will probabaly never be read ... however, it must be done.

By the way.. The title of this, "hey diddle diddle", is now my favorite phrase. This monday a little Burmese girl read to me the book "Hey Diddle Diddle", and it was the most precious event of my life. Her accent, hey diddle diddle, marvelous.