Category Archives: Live the Journey

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02/23/2011

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Lord of the Dance

It all started when I read Shannon Kubiak’s The Divine Dance. This picture of dancing hand-in-hand with Jesus quickly worked its way into my heart, and my relationship with the Maker has never been the same.

Two years ago, I discovered “our song”. The first time I danced to the tune of Lord of the Dance, a picture formed in my mind. In the opening notes, I hear God calling me. As the tempo picks up, it’s like I’m coming alive. And before I know it, I’m spinning wildly in circles, giggling with delight. By the end of the dance, I’m completely out of breath and totally in awe of the greatness of my God.

The amazing thing is, when that song starts playing, I almost literally cannot keep from dancing. Last night, I was immersed in a project that required all of my focus. I had my iTunes playing in the background, but I hardly even heard it. That is… until our song came on.

My head jerked up, and my pencil fell from my hand. A smile crept across my face as I realized He was calling me. So I stepped into the empty kitchen and began to dance. With my heart racing and head spinning, I was caught in the glorious thrill of twirling in my Savior’s arms. When the music finally stopped, I fell back against the counter panting for breath. It was one of the most amazing moments I’ve had in far too long a time.

Jesus is real. Jesus is intimate. Jesus is extending His hand, inviting you into the dance of a lifetime. So what are you waiting for? Can’t you hear the song that plays in the deepest depths of your soul? I pray you won’t be able to deny His call… Arise, beloved, and dance.

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02/11/2011

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The Mediocre

I’ve been reading a novel called Giver of Roses. While I’m still not sure what I think of the book, I do know that this one quote jumped out and hit me square in the chest:

“Always live with a sense that you can be more than you ever thought you could be, for you’ve yet to tap your deepest potential.”

I certainly haven’t been living with that sense lately, and I know I haven’t tapped my deepest potential. In fact, I haven’t even tried.  I feel like I’ve slowly let my life slip back into mediocre – a place I never wanted to be. But here I am.

Sometimes I have to force myself back to the fairytales. Back to that place of wonder and magic, fairies and pirates, Princes and dragons and mermaids and dreams. Sometimes my mind must escape to that place far away from reality, because it is my mindset that is keeping me here in the mediocre.

I find it strange that, as a child, all one longs to do is grow up and make your own rules; but once you reach that grown-up world, your heart wishes to escape to the simplicity of childhood. To return to Neverland. If only to escape the mediocre.

I firmly believe that there must be a balance somewhere, though few ever seem to find it. Few live with that sense that we could be more than we ever thought we could be. Few have tapped their deepest potential. I feel as if there is part of my dream that I’ve not even begun to dream. But I want to.

May we always live with the sense that we can be more than we ever dreamed we could be. May we live something far greater than the mediocre.

And how do we get beyond the mediocre, you ask? Well, I can’t be sure, but I’ve heard it’s the second star to the right and straight on ’til morning.

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12/22/2010

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The Best Christmas “Tradition”

My coworkers keep asking me what my Christmas traditions are. I don’t want to say that we don’t have any traditions because I guess that we do. We’ve celebrated Christmas with my dad’s side of the family as long as I’ve lived. My mom’s side of the family always has their celebration on a different day so they don’t have to compete with the other sides of the family. That’s the one constant that has never changed, but other “traditions” are affected by different circumstances in life.

The earliest tradition I can remember is coming home after our Christmas Eve service and opening one gift in my grandparents’ presence. But that tradition ended the year my grandma died. Three years after that, we left the church in which I was raised, changing the Christmas Eve service tradition as well. I know some people have managed to hold onto their traditions, but I wonder how the same things that entertained them when they were five can still capture their attention when they are twenty-five.

There’s only one “tradition” that will hold my heart for as long as it continues to last. I love the moment on Christmas Day when everyone is called into my grandma’s living room in order to open presents. It’s not the gifts that matter to me anymore, but the joyous anticipation that lights the eyes of my younger cousins when their gifts are set in front of them. It’s the way that all 30+ Snyders fill into one small area in representation of the tight-knit family we truly are. When I’m packed shoulder to shoulder like a sardine with the people who were born to be my best friends, I’m reminded of how blessed I am to be a Snyder. Though presents are nice, I don’t need anything but the smiling faces surrounding me and the baby on my lap. That’s what I find myself counting down for every Christmas.

Three more days. Only three more days…

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11/17/2010

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Discovering Me

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there is a new note bouncing around facebook that is either 25, 30, or 50 random facts about the author, depending on who’s writing it. The first one I saw had 50 facts, and I got a little nervous when I read it. 50 facts? Do I even know 50 random facts about myself? It was probably a silly question. Of course I know 50 things about myself. But do I want to dig deep into the recesses of my heart and mind to retrieve them? Probably not.

But I did retrieve them. All 50 of them. Even though I only posted 25 on facebook. As much as I hate doing it, I figured it would probably be a good exercise. It was time to learn the things that I had been hiding from myself. And I did learn. I really had to think about these 50 things. I had to decide what was important enough to earn a place on this exclusive list. Even though my brain rebels against all things analytical, it’s good for me to study my life from time to time.

The answers themselves ask a question of their own. How do I love dancing in the rain when I don’t like being in water? Why do I devour fiction the way that I do? How have I managed to convince most of the world that I’m an extrovert? Why do I gravitate toward certain colors of clothing? These are things a girl should know about herself. And yet I don’t know these things. I don’t know because I never allow myself time to think of them. But knowing what I’m like and why I’m that way helps me understand myself better. Somehow my future ties in with these 50 past and present facts. Somehow these facts have shaped me. And will continue to do so.

Do you know what shapes your life? Do you know what drives you? I challenge you to take a day (or two, like I did) and ask yourself which 50 facts about you are “list-worthy.” Get to know the person God created you to be. Figure out how your past is affecting your future. Then invite God to shape and mold these 50 things that are very much a part of who you are and who you have yet to become.

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11/03/2010

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Everything is Spiritual (including this post)

I’m one of those people who need a different notebook for everything. I remember going on vacation one time and having my dad stare at the bag of books I had packed as he asked, “Do you really need all of those?”

“Yup. This one’s my prayer journal, and this one’s where I write everything that happened in a day, and this one’s full of all the cool stuff I found in the Bible…” The list goes on. But until recently, I did not have a journal for just plain silliness. I realized this as I was in the middle of writing a prayer and had a thought that just didn’t seem to fit in the “prayer” genre. I discovered that I needed somewhere to put my whimsical thoughts of mushroom mist and gypsy dust and fantastical cities called Khassel. I needed a place to record important questions like, at what age does Peter Pan stop showing up at your window? Why do they call it an up-down when you actually look down then up? Why do I walk to the bathroom in the dark when there’s the slightest possibility John could have put an anvil in the middle of the floor? And what are my future grandchildren going to think when they read this stuff?

These are the questions that racked my brain when I was supposed to be praying. So I started a journal where I could record all these seemingly “unspiritual” things. Then I realized something… They are spiritual. Rob Bell wrote a book entitled Everything is Spiritual. I haven’t read it, but I love the title. (That’s why I stole it and used it as the title of my post.) And I know a pastor who once claimed, “Whether I’m at church for hours on end or I’m sitting on my front porch listening to Nat King Cole, it’s a God Moment.” And with those (surprisingly spiritual) thoughts running through my brain, I decided that my journal of silliness is, in fact, spiritual.

I think God likes it when we engage the random/silly side of our nature. He did give us a sense of humor on purpose, you know. And even though my journal appears to be full of just plain silliness, it truly is my way of fully engaging with God. It’s an expression of the joy in my heart as I fully enjoy the life He gave me.

So what spiritually silly things are stirring in your heart? Leave a fun comment and allow me to enjoy life with you.

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10/24/2010

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They Lived

Yesterday, I had one of those days. You know, the kind of day where you fume about  stupid stuff and think things like, “I’m not going to get married for the next hundred bajillion years because I don’t even want to deal with this junk.” It took moving 450 miles away from home for me to realize that guy/girl friendships are difficult to come by. I don’t know if that fact makes me want to hug my old guy friends and apologize for all the years I’ve taken them for granted, or slap them in the face and yell at them for making me believe that our relationships were normal. I think what I felt yesterday was a combination of the two. I could have walked right up to one of them and shouted, “Thanks for being amazing, jerk.”

Well, I did what any girl would do in such a situation. I grabbed a bowl of chocolate ice cream and popped Ever After into the VCR. By the time it was over, I felt a whole lot better about the topic of men and marriage. What I love best about that particular version of Cinderella is that the characters have flaws. Prince Henry was selfish, arrogant, didn’t listen very well, and acted like a jerk when he learned the truth (to which he had previously refused to listen). And Danielle weaved a web of horrible lies then tried to keep the pretense going. What makes the story so enchanting is that they manage to overcome their flaws and find a happy ending. I’ve been told that chick-flicks are not good for a girl’s emotional health, but I needed that movie last night. I don’t think it’s bad to hold out for “Prince Henry” – as long as you’re willing to accept that he does have flaws.

The movie comes to a conclusion with this beautiful line: “And while Cinderella and her prince did live happily ever after, the point, gentlemen, is that they lived.” They lived. And while those words were said to convey the idea that Cinderella was more than just a folk tale, I think that line carries a much greater meaning. Take Prince Henry’s line, for example: “You swim alone, climb rocks, rescue servants… Is there anything you don’t do?”

The character of Danielle De Barbarac did not only live “happily ever after,” but “once upon a time.” She embraced the moments and lived the journey. She may be a fictional character, but she’s still a great reminder that we weren’t meant to live for the “happily ever after.” We were made for the “once upon a time.” “Happily ever after” means that the story is over. No more adventures. No more life. One day, I hope I’ll make it to “happily ever after,” but as for today, I simply want to live.

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10/23/2010

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Before You Make Him Mine

It has been over ten months since I’ve prayed a heartfelt, in-depth prayer for my future husband. That may seem crazy to you as it does seem to go against every book you’ll find on waiting for Prince Charming. I thought I was crazy myself, at first. But it can’t be any more crazy than how crazy I felt back when I was faithfully praying for my knight in shining armor. I didn’t stop praying because I got the impression that the man I will one day marry is above falling, but because I know how prone I am to fall myself. When I was consistently praying for my future husband, I was constantly thinking about him. And because I thought of him so often, I got to a point where I wasn’t content with living without him. That’s why I dropped the specific prayers. That’s why I shredded the list of things I wanted in a husband. Maybe it’s the novelist in me, but when I write a guy out on paper, he becomes real and eventually becomes all I think about. But he shouldn’t be all I think about during this stage of my life.  That’s why when it comes to this delicate subject of waiting, I decided to, well, stop waiting. If I’m going to live in this moment here and now, I can’t be dwelling on a future with him.

I told my mom that she is simply going to have to pray twice as hard because I can’t offer those deep, intercessory prayers that I’ve been advised to pray. I find them to be detrimental to my emotional health. Yes, I have those moments like the one I had ten months ago. Sometimes I get the compelling urge to pour my heart out in prayer for this man I have yet to know. I don’t ignore those urges. In those types of moments, I pray long and hard. But as far as the daily moments when I find my mind turning to thoughts of Prince Charming, I offer this simple prayer: “God, make him the man You want him to be before You make him mine.”

That’s it. I think it pretty much covers all of the basics. God knows the heart behind that simple prayer. He knows what it truly means. He knows that it is so much more than that simple statement. He knows that, truly, it’s a repeat of the much longer, specific prayer I prayed ten months ago. When I whisper that one simple line, I believe God hears the 28 other lines I had penned leading up to that closing statement. And because I know He hears the words I choose to leave unspoken, the thought of “happily ever after” drifts from my mind as quickly as it came and I am free to embrace the moment that has been handed to me here and now.

This is how I’ve been able to dance through the moments of my life as a single girl. It works for me. And it may work for you. Then again, it may not. After all, dreaming up a list of who I thought my future husband should be certainly didn’t work for me. But if you’re really struggling with the fantasy playing on repeat in your mind, I’d encourage you to give it a try. Shred your list, quiet your mind, and whisper these words:

“God, make him the man You want him to be before You make him mine.”

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10/19/2010

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Ask Me About SAM

The ministry I work with designed these buttons as a conversation starter that would help us encourage people to “Sponsor a Missionary,” but today I sported this button for an entirely different reason. I wore it to remind myself to pray for a young man named Sam.

You see, Sam went rock-climbing with his sister yesterday and fell forty feet into shallow water. He tumbled over the rocks before bouncing off his kayak into the water. Had he not been slowed down by the kayak, he almost certainly would have died when he collided with the razor-sharp rocks hidden under the surface of the river. Right now, Sam is in the hospital with several stitches, staples, bruises, and broken bones. Today, he underwent several x-rays to see just how bad his internal damage is. It will be a long road to recovery, but he is, by the grace of God, alive.

So today, if you ask me about Sam, I’ll tell you that Sam is a miraculous reminder of God’s goodness and grace. According to the rescue squad, he should have died. Had that kayak been floating just a foot away from where he landed, Sam would have died. Had God’s hand been anywhere other than that exact location, Sam never would have awakened to his sister’s desperate cries. To me, Sam serves as a chilling reminder of how fragile life truly is. The words of my friend echo in my mind: “I saw him the night before this happened. We were being all sarcastic and joking like always. To realize it might have been our last time together… It just makes you think.”

The thing that strikes me is that this isn’t the first time I’ve seen God miraculously intervene in an impossible situation. I’ve actually looked into the eyes of a person who shouldn’t be alive. Instead of attending the funeral that was almost certain, I wrapped my arms around a guy who nursed a broken arm and a road-burned shoulder. And I forgot. I forgot how easily life fades away. I forgot what a miracle it is to simply breathe. I forgot that at any given moment, I could lose someone I greatly cherish.

Suddenly, I find myself being reminded. Today, as I wear my button, pray for Sam and thank God for sparing his life, I’m reminded to thank Him for the times that my brothers cracked their heads open, or fell out of trees, or had a zipline snap while they were riding it and yet walked away with no serious repercussions. I’m reminded to thank Him that my face carries no scars from the time I spilled a bowl of hot grease on it when I was only two years old. I’m reminded to thank Him for sparing me from the many tragedies of which I will never even be aware. Today, I thank God for the numerous times His hand has been there to save me from harm. Today, I thank God for the miracle of life.

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10/11/2010

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Mountain-Sized Enthusiasm

Yesterday, I went on a little adventure with my friend, Shannon. It wasn’t one of those things I would normally consider to be an adventure, but with Shannon, everything is an adventure. So there we were, sitting in a bagel shop, when she finds out I had never been there before. “Girl,” she exclaimed, “I just love that I get to be part of all these firsts with you! Like the downtown mall, the Mellow Mushroom, and now this.”

I blinked. We were eating bagels and she managed to make it sound like we were climbing Mt. Everest. I quickly found her mountain-sized enthusiasm stirring my own. Believe it or not, I’m not naturally one of those excitable kind of people. I’m often hard to impress, and I don’t enjoy exploring new things. That kind of goes against everything I’ve been saying, doesn’t it? But it’s true. While my brother inherited my dad’s “happy feet,” I tend to cling to my grandma’s mentality of not wanting to leave home.  

I remember how, shortly after I moved down here, my coworkers kept encouraging me to “explore the territory” and drive around town “just for fun.” I remember having two distinct thoughts about that.

  1. I don’t think it’s wise for a young woman to wander around such a busy town all by herself. 
  2. That’s not fun; that’s torture.

That’s how little I enjoy “adventure.”

But then I go places with people like Shannon and I see the world through different eyes.  As I was sitting in that bagel shop with my oh so excitable friend, I realized something… When I’m with Shannon, the mundane things become exciting and the small things appear to be colossal. I live the journey so much better when I’m living it with her. But I want to live like that all the time. I want to be the kind of person who makes an adventure out of mall trips, and pizza places, and bagel shops.

And while Shannon’s mountain-sized enthusiasm seems impossible for me to achieve, I’ll start with a hill – a little mound really. And maybe if I pray hard enough, live loud enough, and truly rejoice in the little things, my mound will become a mountain. I’ll just take it like I have to take everything else in life – one little step, one gloriously mundane moment at a time.

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10/06/2010

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The Best Year of Your Life

I had an interesting conversation with a coworker the other day. It was one of those conversations that left me thinking, then praying, then writing, and now blogging. He asked me this question: “If you could relive one year of your life – not to change anything, but simply to relive it – what year would it be?” Now, my initial thought was, “What’s the point? I’ve already lived that year once, so why would I want to return to something so familiar? What would be the fun of that?”

What left me pondering this thought long after I had gone home from work was the fact that I didn’t have an answer. Every year of my life has been filled with ups and down, joys and pains. How could I choose one that stood above the rest? The only answer I could offer my coworker was, “Well, I know which year I wouldn’t choose.” But now I’m not so sure. As I laid awake in bed thinking of that year I have long considered to be the worst year of my life, I began to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to return to it. In fact, if I could go back with renewed vision – if I were able to take with me the perspective I have now – that would probably be the year I would choose.

I learned so much in that year. I learned how to stand in the midst of a storm while the wind and waves pressed against me and the sands shifted beneath my feet. I discovered how to love through the course of that nightmare – unconditionally, that is – because up until that year, no one had presented any conditions that I was required to love around. I learned how to fully trust the God who creates the light at the end of the tunnel, because throughout that year, I knew nothing but darkness. And if I could go back with the perspective I have now, I might be able to see the things that I missed. Perhaps my worst year would become my best year, but I guess we will never know.

The only thing I am left absolutely certain of is this: I don’t want to live my life stuck in the past, savoring the moment. I don’t want to get so caught up in a memory that I miss what is happening here and now. It’s like the old proverb says,

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery; but today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.

So here’s my answer to my coworker’s silly question: This year, 2010, is the year I want to relive. And next year it will be 2011. And the year after that, 2012. My lesson learned (and encouragement to you) is this: Don’t walk around yearning to relive the best year of your life, but strive to make every year a year worth reliving.