Balance.

I'm overwhelmed with both joy and stress.

How does that even work?

Joy- the sweet dog snoozing on the couch and the cinnamon candle burning on the coffee table.

Stress- the mountain of reading I've already had to do this week and it's only Tuesday.

Joy- the most patient, wise and creative husband who has been doing more than his share of housework while I've been busy with school.

Stress- the project proposal due tonight, for the class I have absolutely no grasp of.

Joy- so many wonderful, sweet friends.

Stress- no time to have all of the coffee dates my text message inbox is full of invitations for.

Joy- 16 pages of my thesis done.

Stress- Only 16 pages of my thesis done.

This balance is so beautiful, I'm afraid if I blink, it might disappear. What would the joy be without any of the stress? And how debilitating would the stress be without all of those glimmers of joy? What an exciting time of life this is. I wish I could save "25 year old grad student with the best husband and dog in the world" forever.

Alone but Not Lonely

I've never been away from home for longer than two weeks. I've never been away from my husband for longer than 48 hours, since we've been married. But here I am, sitting in my room in Michigan, 2300 miles away from home and husband. I've been here for two weeks already. Two more to go. A month long summer program for grad school- 5 classes in 4 weeks. I've been having a great time- I'm learning SO MUCH, laughing until my sides hurt with my friends, and am still fascinated and mesmerized by fireflies every evening.

I'm here with three other people from my program, and we're subletting rooms at an adorable house near the program. Today is day 14, officially the longest I've ever been away from my own bed. The homesickness sort of started hitting me over the past couple days. Maybe 4th of July, because it's one of my favorite holidays and I didn't get to do any of the normal traditions. 

My main thought over the past few days is that I think it's fully possible to feel alone, but still not lonely. I feel very alone here in Michigan- I'm here with a few hundred graduate students in my field of study and I've met some amazing people, had some great discussions and I am so so glad I'm here- but I feel alone at the same time. I haven't met a single Christ follower in all these 500 people. I'm learning what it means to be in but not of the word. I'm learning where I am strong and where I am weak. Jesus is right here beside me and it is so cool to depend on Him instead of my community or my family. I feel like He's giving me a fair taste of what it might be like to be a Christian in academia, which is what I hope to pursue my career in. 

I'm thankful for this month of self discovery. I'm also very thankful for modern technologies such as Facetime and Facebook to keep me connected to the people I love. I'm certainly not lonely, with my three hilarious friends and my classes full of smart people with similar interests as me. But I do feel very alone in my faith- I'm so used to friends encouraging me or praying with me, or my Bible study group, or even just going to church on Sunday mornings. It is neat that without all of that, I still have Jesus, and He is always with me and always faithful. I guess this month is teaching me how to own my faith more, and not depend on other people to meet me spiritual needs when I should just be depending on Jesus. 

So alone I sit in my little room, but I'm not lonely. I have my guitar and endless songs to sing to the God of the universe! How cool is that?

The Past Year

May 9th of last year was a very strange day in my life. I woke up in a little hotel room 100 miles from home, and began to get ready to go to my beloved uncle's funeral. Marty died of ALS, only 8-9 months after his diagnosis. The degenerative disease appeared slowly at first, slurring his speech, but ramped up quickly. June of 2011 we were at his surprise 60th birthday party and nobody knew anything was wrong. The doctors had said his slightly slurred speech was a side affect of a medication he was on. A month or so later came the diagnosis- a speech pathologist's hunch confirmed by another doctor. We lost him the following April. 

He was the best uncle. Crazy, adventurous, caring, compassionate, grounded and faithful. His family was the most important thing in the world to him, and his dedication to me would often bring him down to San Diego, 100 miles from his Orange County home. He was there for every birthday, Thanksgiving, graduation, or even every play I was in. Even when I just had a chorus part. And it wasn't just me- he was that involved in the lives of everyone- his siblings, cousins, second cousins, his own aunts, his two daughters and three grandchildren, and his church family. He would call me once or twice a week just to check in. The phone calls never lasted more than 40 seconds, but that was all the time he needed to say hi, make sure Dan and I were both doing well, and to say that he loved me. It was Fall of 2011 when the phone calls stopped. His speech function had diminished by that point. 

So there I was, sitting in that hotel room on May 9th of last year, wondering how I was going to get through that day. I had written a song to play and sing about him at the service, and I was doubting if I had the courage and composure to hold it together. I distracted myself by checking my email on my phone. I got an email that I was NOT expecting, and I think I can honestly say it changed my life. The subject said "Graduate Application Status." This is what I read:

Dear Alicia,
Upon recommendation of the faculty, I am pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to graduate study at San Diego State University for the Fall 2012 semester.  On behalf of the faculty, students and staff, I welcome you to the University and express our shared hope that your studies here will be both productive and rewarding.

I was shocked. I ran across the hotel barefoot in my pj's and banged on my parent's hotel room door. They were both still asleep. My mom groggily opened the door and I ran in and jumped on the bed, unable to contain my joy.

Uncle Marty would have been so excited.

This year has flown by.  A year of grad school, and a year of firsts without him around. I didn't get to tell him about the crazy people I have met this year and election season was not nearly as comical without all his political jokes. 

Isn't it strange though, how a year that is full of so much sadness can also be full of so much joy at the same time? This really has been one of the best years of my life- I have learned so much, and am studying a subject I am truly passionate about. I'm halfway done with this masters now. Next year at this time, I'll be graduating with my M.A. in Linguistics. I can't even begin to imagine, with his out of control sense of humor, what kind of things he would have said about me being a linguist. I probably would have gotten annoyed by them, because he always said the same jokes over and over until we all couldn't stand them anymore. He was a hurricane of energy. I'll miss him on graduation day, for sure. 

Looking back, I guess I see May 9th of last year as an interesting turning point in my life. It was the day I said goodbye to one of the most solid people I have ever known- an example of Christ's love and what a family is supposed to be like- but also the day that I see as the start of this adventure that I'm currently on. Even though I don't get the weekly phone calls anymore, I will always associate him with my linguistic embarkation, and I think that's pretty neat. I'm so thankful for the time I did have with him, and he inspires both Dan and I to be the best uncle and aunt we can be to our nieces and nephews. 

This is us at the ALS walk, in October of 2011. This is the last picture we took together. He had already lost his ability to smile, but you can tell he's trying. About 25 of us had the privilege to walk with him on Team Marty that day. It was a lovely chance to be there for the man who had always been there for each of us. 

 

We miss you, uncle Mart! Can't wait to see you again someday.

 

 

 

Road Trip

Last week was my spring break, a perfect chance to get away for a few days and spend some time on the beautiful California coast! It was a wonderful trip. March was rough. The break was much appreciated and the beautiful scenery life-giving. Here are some pictures (in no particular order.. And sorry for the weird borders on some of them).






Big Sur. So beautiful there!



The view from Hearst Castle



Santa Cruz boardwalk




Golden Gate

 

Lake Shasta


Muir Woods

We also got the opportunity to visit Bethel Church in Redding, CA. It was amazing. Basically, Dan and I got in the car afterwards, and couldn't even talk about it because there were no words. We drove in silence for almost an hour. I definitely experienced God's presence like I never have before. It was definitely worth the extra few hours of driving. I can't wait to go back there again.

It really was a great spring break and I was so thankful to get away from distractions and responsibilities and to have time to breathe, think and process. I'm feeling rejuvenated and ready to power through the rest of this semester! I can't believe I'm almost done with a whole year of grad school. God is so faithful!

Valley

I've taken a little break from social media over the past few weeks. It has been a nice time free of distractions to just think and process through some things. This month has brought a whirlwind of emotions ranging from overwhelming joy to crushing sadness.
I know that God is good in all circumstances. That is not even a question in my mind. I will say though, that experiencing such a wide range of emotions in such a short time has left me exhausted and drained. I did not get much studying done last week, nor have I had the energy to write and process through the emotional rollercoaster I have experienced this month. I will say though, that even when words fail me, the peace that comes only from Jesus truly is overwhelming. I have experienced His love so fully and completely through this hard time; it has been clear that He does care about each detail and He meets us in our brokenness.
Last Friday morning, as I was driving to meet a friend for breakfast, Valley Song by Jars of Clay came on my Pandora station. I had never heard it before, but it so perfectly expressed how I was feeling. I just sat in my car and cried and remembered that when I am weak, He is so strong.
Here are a few of the lyrics that really connected with me:

When death like a Gypsy
Comes to steal what I love
I will still look to the heavens
I will still seek your face
But I fear you aren't listening
Because there are no words
Just the stillness and the hunger
For a faith that assures
I will sing of Your mercy
That leads me through valleys of sorrow
To rivers of joy
And though the pain is an ocean
Tossing us around, around, around
You have calmed greater waters
Higher mountains have come down
I will sing of Your mercy
That leads me through valleys of sorrow
To rivers of joy
Oh, Lord sing of Your mercy,
Mercy
Your mercy

Today is a new day. One of my lovely friends from my small group sent me a sermon by Bill Johnson at Bethel church. He said that when God says no, it's because there is a better yes. I have so much hope in Jesus, and feel so much freedom in the fact that I am not in control. He has a beautiful plan, and even though there is sometimes pain, He is the master of redeeming brokenness. Hallelujah.

Chelsea's Run

Early this morning, as the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains, I was driving towards Balboa Park and "Beautiful Things" by Gungor came on my Pandora station.  Tears filled my eyes as I heard these words: "You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust."

I have heard the song a thousand times, but listening to it while thinking about Cheslea made the words feel more true and real.  In the context of this morning, I was reminded that God can take the absolute worst imaginable situation- a tragic and horrific nightmare- to make a beautiful change affecting countless lives.

Today was the third annual "Finish Chelsea's Run", a 5k in honor and memory of Chelsea King and benefiting the Chelsea's Light Foundation.  Each year, I am completely in awe of the beauty of this event.  I'm amazed by Mr. and Mrs. King, and the dignity and grace with which they have handled a situation nothing short of any parent's nightmare.  I admire how they have refused to succumb to bitterness and have instead embraced change and hope for the youth of our country.  They honor their daughter so beautifully, which is both empowering and heartbreaking because I can't imagine the pain they continue to endure.  They are truly an inspiration.

It has been three years.  She would be 20 now.  I never met her and I never would have known she existed if she would have made it safely home from her training run that February day three years ago.   But for some reason, I feel like I know her well.  And I think that is what is most wrenching about her story and why I continue to think about her and look forward to this run every year.  In her, I see each of my high school smallgroup girls at church- 17, full of life and ambition, looking forward to graduation and the vastness of life just ahead of them.  I see myself at 17, a lover of music, learning, and creativity.  I see each of my dear friends, brimming with potential and full of laughter and adventure.  It could have happened to any one of us.

So today, thousands of people came to honor Chelsea.  Vibrant sunflowers were everywhere, and the love and hope in the air was tangible.  Even though her life was cut short, she is changing the world.  God is truly making beautiful things.





To read more about the event, click here

Visit the Chelsea's Light foundation website here. Proceeds go towards college scholarships for teens who, like Chelsea, are ready to change the world.

Coffee, Pie and Jesus

My friend, Felicia and I happen to take the same route of public transportation as part of our morning commutes.  Although our destinations are quite different, we have 20 minutes together in the mornings before I get off at my stop and she stays on.  It makes our big, spread out city seem much more intimate and Urban when you can count on seeing a friend in an out-of-the-ordinary context.

We're in the same Tuesday night Bible study so yesterday morning, being a Tuesday, we chatted about that evening's upcoming group.  It was going to be a girls night- the ladies would be meeting at my house and our husbands at a different house.  We had never done this before- usually we all just meet as couples.  Felicia and I were sharing our excitement about our impending girl's night, and how a walk to Starbucks might be in order.  She then casually mentioned that she had really be craving coffee and pie.  Suddenly, there was nothing I wanted more on that rainy day than coffee and pie. I told her I would make it happen.

After school, I bought three pounds (yes, I went a little overboard) of big, juicy blackberries, found my aunt's famous pastry recipe and got busy.  A couple hours later, I had four lovely friends and the smell of coffee and blackberry pie filling my tiny house.  We talked for almost three hours.

There is something so rejuvenating about a girls night with coffee, pie and Jesus.  I feel so renewed today; so thankful for my Jesus and my beautiful smallgroup friends.  Our lives are each so different and we each face our own set of difficulties, but we are there for each other- there to remind one another of our value and the love Jesus has for each of us.  I think we all needed that last night.  The rain, coffee and pie made it that much sweeter.

I Believe

I believe in Jesus Christ.

I believe that He is all good, and all love, and that in His spirit there is freedom.

I believe that there is nothing you can do to make Him love you more, or less.  He loves you fully and completely, just as you are.  We are all imperfect and flawed, and He is still crazy about each one of us.

I believe that His love cleans every wound and is bigger than any sin.

I believe that nothing is too small or seemingly insignificant for Him; that He cares about every detail of your life.

I believe that if you truly experience His power and love, you can never, ever be the same.

I believe that his heart aches for His people, His creation.

I believe that Jesus Christ is the hope of the world.

I believe that He is coming back here, to this messy place, to right every wrong and end every kind of injustice.  That with righteousness and justice as the standard, He will make His creation perfect again.

Isaiah 11:4-9
But with righteousness he will judge the needy,
with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.
He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth;
with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.
Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist.
The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together,
and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the hole of the cobra,
and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.

I believe that He is the creator of creativity itself.

I believe in all things lovely and beautiful, because they point to Him.

I believe that if you let Him, He will show you a life more beautiful and full than anything you could ask or imagine.

And then you will be found.

My Valentine

Yesterday was Valentine's day.  I've kind of always been one of those people who could take it or leave it, mostly because I don't like braving the crowds at restaurants or feeling like I have to out-Valentine all my friends.. (Yes, I know it's not a competition, but we've all felt that, right?  Or is it just me?)  What's funny is Dan loves Valentines day.  I think partially because he associates all the pink and red and hearts with his birthday (the 7th).  Even so, we’ve never really been a Valentinesey couple.

This year was our 8th Valentine's day together, and for the first time, I LOVED it.  I had a fantastic day yesterday.  I think because I didn't let myself feel pressured into doing what I thought I was supposed to do, like bake heart shaped cookies and paint my fingernails pink and whatnot.  I did cut out a lot of paper hearts because I remembered doing that in 1st grade, and it was fun back then.  It's actually even more fun now because I don't have to use those dull scissors we all had to use back in the day.  I think I cut out close to 100 hearts, just because.  I also wore a pink shirt to school.  Not necessarily because it was Valentine’s day, but mostly because the shirt was clean and long sleeved, and it was  a bit chilly yesterday.  The festivity of it was just a bonus.

We didn't go out to dinner.  What we did was even better- we ate leftovers at home and watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off in sweatpants.  I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  And then after dinner and Bueller, we changed out of our sweaties and drove all the way to Little Italy for gelato.  I couldn’t get that amazing Gelato I saw on Saturday out of my mind, so we figured V-Day is the perfect day to drive a bit out of the way for a treat.  It was totally worth it.  Delicious gelato.  The walls of the shop even had pictures of Italy all over them, so we got to eat our gelato and look at pictures of places we went on our honeymoon.  (I’ll write about that trip another day!)  It ended up being the most fun, romantic Valentine’s day ever, and it cost less than $10.

My Valentine and I in Florence, Italy, in 2010

Uninspired

I just need to take a moment to pause and acknowledge the fact that today was hard.  For a number of reasons.  First of all, I was so inspired today.  I wanted to craft and plant seeds in my garden and make a delicious dinner and write and read and play my piano and guitar.

Instead, I had to spend the day on an assignment that's due tomorrow.

A 1-2 page paper.

No big deal, right? Apparently wrong.  Because I have spent literally 8 hours on it.  8 hours on a 2 page paper?  I have written 10 page papers in less time than that.

It just made me realize (again) that grad school is hard work.  I shouldn't feel bad about the fact that it's hard.  I'm glad it is.  I'm learning SO MUCH and I love linguistics.  I feel like I was made to study it.  But today was hard.

And I made waffles for dinner.  Waffles with bacon and eggs.  Not that there's anything wrong with waffles.  But waffles on a day where I felt so inspired to make something new and exciting sort of left me feeling unsatisfied.

But then I remembered that my satisfaction comes from Christ and not what I make for dinner, or even how much of my day was spent on writing seven paragraphs.

So now it's 10:41, and even though today was hard and I didn't get to feed my inspiration, I do get to wake up tomorrow, hop on a big, red trolley and be a graduate student.  I will learn a lot and be challenged to think and ask questions.  And that is exciting.

Goodnight!

-Alicia

The Mercato

One of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday morning is at the Little Italy Farmer's Market- my favorite farmer's market in town.  It's three blocks long, and has such a lovely view of the sailboats in the harbor.  Little Italy is already so charming, so once you add the farmer's market, it almost makes me feel like I'm on a trip!  It's picture perfect.

My lovely friend Shannon had the morning off, so we headed down to The Mercato bright and early for some coffee and wandering.  We stumbled upon a darling little coffee shop I had never heard of before called Pappalecco.  When we walked in, I immediately felt like I was back in Italy. Everyone who worked there was Italian, and all of their food was homemade.  The biscotti, cakes and gelato looked amazing- just like the little storefronts in Florence.  I can't wait to go back there again to try some gelato.  I was tempted to get some, but it was 8am so I resisted.  We got our latte's (made with almond milk!) and happily headed over to the market after being told "Grazie!" as we left the shop.



Yesterday was rainy, so today's weather was perfection.  The sky was bright blue with big, puffy clouds, and the pavement still looked a little damp.  A lot of people came to enjoy the vibrant colors of the market.



I snacked on a delicious cheese croissant.



Some farm-bred inspiration.



Shannon and I enjoying our coffees and croissants.

It was so refreshing to walk around the beautiful market and get to talk about life and community.  Seven years ago, Shannon was in 8th grade and I was her jr. high smallgroup leader at church.  Now, she's 19 and we both lead high school smallgroups!  She has great perspective on faith and life with God, and such a heart for people.  I am thankful for her!

My idea of a perfect morning!  I hope your weekend is full of beauty as well.

-Alicia

Here and Now

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Every child hears that question. I, like most kids, had various answers during the different stages of my upbringing. My youthful career prospects hopped around from veterinarian to environmental researcher to teacher, doctor, public health guru, physical therapist and physical therapist for horses and dogs. As I got older and started thinking about college, I knew I wanted to major in biology. I felt that it was a very practical degree to pursue, and that it would give me a great foundation for anything I wanted to do. I was so wrapped up in the practical- what would give me the tools I needed to have a good career- that I didn’t give a single ounce of thought to my true interests. In my mind, my hobbies and interests had to be separate from my college degree and future career.

In college, I would spend an hour or two studing for organic chemistry and then spend the remainder of my night trying to teach myself foreign languages. For every science flashcard I made, I made a flashcard for Spanish, or Norwegian, or whatever language I happened to be interested in that week. During my junior year of college, some of my friends were taking an introductory linguistics class. They would talk about it during lunch, and I would sit silently intrigued (and somewhat jealous) of what they got to learn. One night in my dorm room, I started a folder on my computer of potential graduate programs. I was scrolling through the list of SDSU’s masters degree programs, saving Biology and Environmental Science to my folder, and as I scrolled through the alphabet on my way to the “M’s” for Microbiology, Linguistics caught my eye. I clicked on the link, read over the description and saved it just for fun. I thought “That looks great, but it could never happen. I’m a biology major.” For four years it just sat there.

I graduated with my biology degree in 2009 and took a couple of years off to really figure out what I wanted to do. I finally applied to an immunology Ph.D program and was flown halfway across the country to interview for it. I heard the other interviewees talking about how much they love cell signaling and how they can’t wait to be published scientists, and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. As soon as I was back in my hotel room, I called my husband crying because I just knew it wasn’t right for me. Sitting alone in that Marriott four states away from home, I pulled up that old folder on my laptop and double clicked on the little header that said “Linguistics SDSU.” That was the moment I finally realized two things that are foundational to why I am getting my masters in linguistics today: 1. God gave me these interests and passions for a reason, and I should listen to that and 2. Linguistics is far more scientific than I ever gave it credit for years ago when I casually bookmarked that webpage. I applied to SDSU and got in, even without a Linguistics background.

I believe that God has a plan for my life that is bigger than anything I could have ever thought up for myself. I also believe that majoring in biology was a necessary step to get me to where I am now. The road to this masters program was definitely not straight and was full of many tears and frustrations, but now I realize that all of my passions- words, languages, music, science, teaching, people- will be things that I can explore through Linguistics. I don’t have it all figured out, but I do know that I have experienced God’s faithfulness and timing so intensely over this past year.  I am right where I belong, and that is such an amazing feeling.

Sunshine

Mondays are normally my "get stuff done at home" day, with cleaning, laundry and homework on my to-do list before my piano students start coming.  Today was no different, other than the fact that it was just so gorgeous outside- I had to take advantage of the perfect weather.  My inlaws live about 10 minutes away, and my husband has an office space at their house out of which he runs his business.  I decided to set up a little office of my own today, in their backyard.  Look at the lovely view I had while doing my homework:



I just couldn't help but stare out over the valley as the beautiful sunshine kissed the hills and the Redwood swayed in the breeze.  My husband's grandma (she's 93!) planted that Redwood tree in the 1950's; she brought the little sapling home in a coffee can.  Look at it now!  Such an amazing reminder of God's ability to grow such beautiful things out of small, seemingly insignificant ones.

Quiet moments like these are my favorite.

I hope your day was full of beauty too.

-Alicia

Dadda

Today, my dad turned 65.  He turned 40 exactly one week after I was born, so we always enjoy the week of only being 39 years apart.  I loved celebrating him today.  We are closer now than we ever have been.  We didn't get along when I was a kid or teen, but I can honestly say that God has redeemed our relationship and made it something wonderful.  I am so thankful for him and that we have gotten so much closer over the past few years.  So happy birthday, dad!  Thank you for your humor, kindness, and your appreciation of the simple things in life.  Not to mention the fact that you're always willing to watch a romantic comedy.  I hope you enjoy watching Pitch Perfect for the 7th time tonight.  I love you!

Vanilla Sugar

This time of year is party time around here.  My birthday is January 26th, my dad's is one week later on February 2nd, and then my husband, Dan's is February 7th!  Needless to say, we eat lots of cake within that two week span.  This year, I decided to make this cake for my birthday.  To be honest, I've never been much of a cake person, but lemon cake is a whole different story.  This cake was absolutely perfect.  So perfect that I am making it again for my dad's birthday tomorrow...

The frosting calls for seeds from two vanilla beans.  I figured birthdays are a great excuse to splurge on vanilla beans (they're like $5 each!)  It seemed wasteful to throw the empty pods away because they still smelled so delicious, so I sealed them in a jar with some sugar and ended up with lovely vanilla sugar after only a couple days!  A teaspoon of it makes for an unbelievable cup of coffee.  And a great way to get some extra mileage out of those pricey little vanilla beans.

 

 

 

 

Thursdays

Thursday mornings are quickly becoming my favorite morning of the week.  It’s only the third week of the semester, but I can tell I like Thursday mornings best.  I have a little graduate job as a grader for one of the professors in my department, and Thursday mornings I have to get to campus early to give him the graded papers so he can pass them back to his class.  I don’t have a class until 11, but he needs the grades by 9.  This means that I have two hours to just enjoy some quiet time in the middle of the busy campus.  And to make it even better, Thursday is farmers market day, right in the middle of the courtyard!  The food vendors get to their spots early to start preparing all of their specialties, and the smells are absolutely wonderful.  Here are a couple pictures of this beautiful, last day of January:

 

Found

“The Kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.  When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.  Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls.  When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.” Matthew 13:44-46

I had always been taught that this parable is about us finding the kingdom of heaven, but a year or so ago, I began to think about it differently. I was at a conference, and one of the keynote speakers talked about the parables in Matthew chapter 13 leading up to this one: the seed and the soil, the weeds, and the mustard seed.

In each of these parables, the man in the story is God, the field is the world, and the thing in the field is us or our faith.  In that context, Jesus would not have changed the characters or representations in the parable of the treasure in the field.  Do you know what this means?  Let’s look at it again:

“When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.”

We are the treasure.  God sold everything He had- His only son Jesus Christ- to find us.  Me finding the kingdom of heaven would have never worked.  It gives me way too much credit; it makes it seem like I found Jesus by my own strength.  Really though, in His joy HE found ME.

Through this blog, I hope to navigate life keeping the truth of His grace at the forefront of my mind.  I hope that I can encourage you to do the same, and that we can celebrate in the joy of being found, together.

-Alicia