I Will Plug You Back in my Love

I've asked You to make me a microphone before and You did. You took my vocal cords and connected them to Yours and I sang the fervent outcry of Your heart. I sang about your jealous love and righteousness; about your relentless pursuit after Your inheritance. About the deep groan You made the day True love died because You knew You could have us back. I was screaming then and it was Your song being heard. It was all together beautiful and my heart burned for You to speak more, to speak constantly. My voice, it was Yours and in that I found my existence. The more song sung, the more I came into being. I stood up and proclaimed. My volume increased and my sounds were Your melodious truths. I knew You and therefore my voice didn't shake—I was not shaken.

I was Your microphone and my voice, it belonged to You. And I sang Your hearts yearnings. I sang, and sang—until I didn't. Until one day I stopped asking for You to make me Your microphone. I took it back. Stole it actually, and I gave it to the meaningless sounds of the World. Your sweet lovesickness no longer heard from my lips. My voice, it silenced, and my song sang no more. Instead I was filled with noise, but it wasn't from You, just white noise. It consumed me until I could hear no other sound. Until all I became was the senseless noise, an internal dying groan. The songs— they were foreign to me. I was running, holding my microphone to the passerbys, the debt collectors, the fortune and fame, to the ones that don't know me. I let them sing their own song and soon it became my own. Soon my once unshaken sound was lost and so was I. 

But only You alone know me. I know that now.  I've known it for awhile and I'm sorry. But the noise was even too loud for my thoughts. I've stilled myself again and unplugged my microphone from that grave noise. It's gone now and it is quiet. I'm empty now. A good empty, a desperate one. The kind of empty that only You can fill—a fierce surrender. And I can hear Your whisper inside of me again; the faint sound of Your heartstrings. I will plug You back in my Love. I will sing and remember the sweet melodies that used to roar within. My sound, it belongs to You again. My lips, they sing Your name again. Your volume is on high and I am Your microphone once more. Sing, sing, and I will never cease to roar Your beauty. 

Gold Covered Bones

Warning: This post as a result of Biola assignment.

This generation has curated a society that has everything and yet has nothing. She is extravagant, a statue of gold. But on the inside decaying. Dead bones, gray ash blowing in the wind—nothing. We are born for something. But she said no to true meaning. She saw diamonds, mansions, shiny phones and yachts and chased after bills attached to the tails of decadent lovers. She was king and queens, and yet the kingdom was a pit of empty bottles of booze, the reminisce of strangers chase for freedom, the once boisterous cheers hushed in the empty space. What were the strangers names? No one knows. Who did this society meet? No one. Was it fun? The most. Strangers, little robots walking throughout ivory walkways, perfectly groomed bushes in chase of wild fun. No roots, no connection. The green bills fly and the strangers take. They transform them to life purpose. Materials. So many materials. Greed grows, and so does waste. The strangers leave and reenter,  eyes searching for the Gold, the Jewels, the myriad of New—an endless cycle. What were their names? Still don't know. The sun sets and rises over again. The weather changes. The strangers still show, but the diamonds sit on wrinkled fingers, ivory cloth lays over stretched, drooping skin. Movements are slower now. One step…then another step…but still towards the green candy, the green light. Until one day the chase stops, the decadence decays, silence falls over the group of individual greed seekers. The green light becomes a small spot in the distance until it disappears, moving onwards. What is left is gold covered bones. Laying, waiting to be honored, to be remembered. Heavy blank stones waiting to be engraved. What were their names again? I don’t remember. Thousands of blank stones atop stilled bones and rusted metal sit in darkness of a greenless lit abyss. 

Skin and Bones

I have always been fascinated by the human body. It’s intricate, yet the concept is somewhat simplistic—it keeps us alive and breathing until it can’t, and then we die. As a young person that seems to have a body of an 80 year old I have had a lot of exposure to learning the inner workings of our body. I've learned that torn tendons or ligaments can try to fix themselves. That gallbladders are essential to avoid long term toilet sessions. And each concussion reduces the chance of remembering ones name. But to me the most amazing part of the skin. Think about it. Underneath the vast stretchy organ is a skeleton that shapes our being and houses our ability to stay alive. The skin is what makes a person different. It is what gives us individuality, a way to tell one person from another. Without it we are all the same. Without it we are dead. The two need each other to make a being. The skin needs the skeleton’s ability to shape and the skeleton needs the skin to create uniqueness. If I was stripped of everything that made me Holly Ryan I would in turn be a dead skeleton, a collection of dry bones—nothing. 

This idea is the central component of our connection with God. Without Him we are nothing. We are simply skeletons, all the same and all nonexistent. In truth, humanity is nothing but dust, gathered and curated by the One who was never created and forever existed before the beginning of time. There are many illustrations like this in the Bible. We see Noah withstand the power of a flood that killed all of humanity, Moses split a freaking sea, and Joshua who led a people to scream and blow trumpets until the walls of Jericho fell down. When have you ever heard of a demolition by scream? All of these acts are because God made it possible. Because He strengthened humanities dry bones and made crap happen.

Man, woman, exist because the Lord picked up the dust and made us into something. 

In John 15:5 Jesus says to his disciples, "I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." We must be fully dependent on Him, because to be honest, we suck on our own. On our own there is war, destruction, poverty, demonic rulers. On our own we build an army of unstable minds who's sole purpose is personal gain and pleasure. Without the Love of God, our bodies are dead, our souls blackened, we are walking skeletons. Beauty, real beauty, uncreated beauty, ceases to exist unless we place on our armor of God and cover our dry bones with His eternal Life. Skin and bones, skin and bones. Our earthly bodies all stop working in the end. But without the skin, we never even live. Without walking in the covering of the Uncreated, when our bodies stop, they will never begin again. We return to dry bones. We return to dust, our lives forgotten. But with Him, we never die, we never stop, we get to sing a song that lasts forever to a God who lives forever and life, real uncreated life, never ends. 

Like I said, our bodies intricate, but not complicated. We are a collection of dry bones. When we say a wholly yes to God, we become something. Something that is real and never ending—we become His inheritance. 

Reaching into the Unpopular Realm

Having dreads has taught me a lot. They are extremely hard to maintain if you have as straight as hair as I do. Do not be fooled by their casual, messy like presence. That is not a sign of unkempt hair, but the exact opposite--hours of pulling, twisting, pain, Advil popping and knotting. I've learned to not use wax unless you are becoming a candle for Halloween and that reaching true "dreadhead" level is only when you can successfully use your dreads to tie up the rest of your hair (Est. March 11, 2016). But the most impactful has been my interaction with other people. My dreads are against the norm. They are in a constant state of judgement from passerbys. In the year and a half that I have had them, I have had to learn how to ignore those that perceive me out to be something I am not; to walk in a room and be different. 

See Jesus teaches us something about that. Going against the norm usually means you are doing something right. Please do not hear what I am not saying. Murderers, rapists, even petty liquor store thieves go against the norm and yet, they walk in sin. What I am referring to is the very real yearning to belong. Wanting to belong is actually a part of human nature. We were created with it so that we may yearn to belong to Him. In the Fall, Adam and Eve reversed this concept. Belonging became focused on other gods and values completely opposite of the things of God. Today being a lover of Jesus is weird and strange. It is against the norm. But it's always been like that. Jesus was not a popular man. He was hated and chased after. The Pharisees spent the three years Jesus was traveling the land trying to take Him out.

Lets look at the blind man healing in John 9. 

        "1 As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" 3 Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. 4 We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. 5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." 6 Having said these things, he spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man's eyes with the mud 7 and said to him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing" (John 9:1-7). 

A key point here is that the man did not see Jesus. He obviously did not when he was blind, then, when Jesus sent the man away to wash his face in the pool of Siloam,  He walked away before the mans eyes were healed (John 9:6). When people saw that the man who used to be blind could see they asked what had happened and the he responded, "The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, 'Go to Siloam and wash.' So I went and washed and received my sight" (John 9:11). 

Immediately after his healing the blind man went out to share the miracle that Jesus did. He hadn't even seen Him and yet, he was sharing the anointing power of Jesus.

Read further on and we learn that even after that statement to the people the Jews still did not believe that he was blind and now healed so they went to the parents of the man to ask if this was their son (John 9:18). When they asked how their son could see, the parents of the man said, "We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. But how he now sees we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself" (John 9:20-21). Again, another crucial response. See I always read this as the parents wanted their son to speak for himself because he was grown. But the blind man's parents were actually disassociating themselves from the claims their son was making. In this time if people claimed this man named Jesus as God, they were cast out of the community. So instead of answering the question they turned it back on their son. It was then that the once blind man answered once more "never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing" (John 9:32-33). Boom. Jesus proclamation bomb. After this statement they cast him out of the community. 

It was only after the man was cast out that he finally saw Jesus. Even when his parents denied him, he continued to speak of the miracle Jesus did. This is our hope for living and to speak of the goodness and power of the Lord and the mighty works He does. This once blind man was denied by his parents. This man was excommunicated. He let go of everything to speak about a Man who He could not see. Three times this guy declared Jesus as God. Three times He went against the common law and denied the norm in his society, even unto excommunication. As modern day Christians we can be constantly distracted by the popular beliefs in our society. Things can easily pull us away from spending time with Jesus. We get caught up in those popular beliefs that we turn from the truths of who Jesus is; we turn from our original calling of finding relationship with Him. Going against the greater population can be scary and difficult, but it is necessary. When we stand and chase after this very alive, invisible God we find fulfillment. Like the blind man that stood, even against his parents, we are called to turn from the darkness that captivates this modern day society and reach into the unpopular realm of freedom. Though we cannot see, we believe. And though we may rebel against the norm, against wanting to belong, we find communion with the Holy One and that alone is our purpose. 

Jesus you have won me. Captivate me once more. 

Google gods vs. God

     The last few months have been still, a quiet nothing. And I have realized the season that I was told was coming is actually happening. Two months ago I longed for a quiet night. Now I get tempted to invite random strangers into my home to simply just make noise. It’s funny the things you will do when you are bored. I have found myself organizing my sock drawer, taking daily naps, cleaning clean dishes. I feel like a bear in hibernation. I have time to do absolutely anything. The make your own maple almond butter kind of time. The lay on the beach (though I'm not complaining about that) type of time. I have caught myself continually reverting to my fixing mode to find  busyness. I want to fill the space and be less without my thoughts. I don't even actually have my degree certificate, yet and I am angry that I don’t have a career. I see those around me have new job opportunities, goals, and I am here with empty thoughts. A few weeks ago I sat hopelessly on the Internet for jobs that are within my degree. It was so pathetic that I actually typed in, Jobs for English majors in Orange County. At one point I even considered the link that said, "Teach at Mandarin Speaking School." And then I laughed at myself. I love when desperation turns into dramatic nonsense. It has been only a few months since school has ended, and yet I expect something to happen now. It’s quite scary how dependent our generation has become on immediacy. I have cheese older than that and here I sit complaining. 

My Google search was followed by reading Matthew 6:25. You know the part that says, “do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.” The part that is actually titled “Do Not Worry.” The one that talks about even the birds being taken care of (Matthew 6:25-27). Ha, I always get a kick out of God’s timing. Sometimes I wonder how He doesn't just scream at us.  I want to imagine those fiery eyes turning into a bonfire as his wool-like locks sway violently back and forth. But he doesn’t. That never happens when we are lost and searching. His ways are gentle and kind and while He very much calls us out on our stupidity, he never leaves or turns away. He stands, arms opened wide, yearning for our gaze. Nothing in this world chases after us like that—so unconditionally, so consistently—and yet we choose to still wave our arms and scream into a big microphone in hopes that someone in the world will notice and say we are something. He's there and we still like to choose another love. 

I kept reading through Matthew 7 and got to the part where it says not everyone will make it into Heaven. See this is where most stop reading. They read, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven'" (Matthew 7:21-22). And then they stop. They justify their acceptance and belief solely by attending church on Sunday’s and then move on. But what about the next part that says, “On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ 23And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness'" (Matthew 7:23). Now that's terrifying. Does that actually say God will still throw us out even if we went to church and prayed for people? Yes. Totally.  These parts of the bible are the very swords that fight against the "water-downed-love-everyone-generation" we are living in. It’s not all about what we do. It’s not about success. He wants relationship. For us to sit in the quiet and listen. For us to be still and attentive to His heart. 

How often this idea gets skewed for me. I am a workaholic. I love working. Work was in the Garden, it is biblical. But I find myself at times attempting to mold it with the idea of my worth. Where is the stage, the good job, the hefty paycheck, or the creative career tasks? Where’s that non-profit organization or the perfect church to be built up in? These ideas are all good, but rooted in a heart of wanting to be something. This is how the new aged Google gods begin to replace the true God. This is how the Devil breaks in and makes his move. It really is smart of him isn’t it? That may be a scary thing to say, but it's so true. The devil’s goal is to turn our gaze away from the Lord. So he brings money, and success and shiny objects to convince us that those are the important parts of life. The devil swoons us, invites us onto an eighty year honeymoon. He keeps us long enough to where it’s too late, to where we forget why we are here living. We stop searching for God's ways. It’s such a simple message and yet, we constantly try to direct the hand of God, not trusting that He will provide and will take us to the far places of His heart.

I find it interesting within this part of Matthew that it continuously says the Lord will reward us in the secret place. The verses before even talk about not showing the face of one that is fasting and not flaunting the deeds we do for others, but giving it to God in the secret place. The Lord is focused on our hearts singing for an audience of One. When we find this secret place, we find our original Maker. When we quiet down our souls, we hear the burdens of his heart. When we stay still, we find truth that our lives are fully in the hands of the Lord. This stirs me to know more. To remember that He is everything and we are nothing. 

So screw what man says of worth. Screw the stereotypes of post graduation blues. Screw straying from the truth that we were created to gaze upon Him. We are a generation that wants to be known and noticed and the entire time He is screaming for us to know Him. For all things will fade away any ways, but how foolish we would be to have our spirit fade too. Let those lamps burn with the oil of compassion and sacrifice and let us find our plan, our purpose in the shadow of His secret place. He loves when we are still and not busy. He loves when we have lay on the beach type of time, because in the silence we can hear His voice again. 

God, take me away again to that place where I know you. Pull, rip, steal me away from the world and show me. Because I have a wretched view of worth and Yours is the only way to eternity.

Cindie Ryan.

I almost crashed the car when I saw it. My mother was in the passenger seat doing her best to make conversation, but I could read right through her smile. Right through her attempt to act strong and yet the bags under her eyelids and frail body said otherwise. She was 35 pounds smaller since I last saw her and not because she had found recent friendship with the gym, but because the stress and heartbreak of her situation was eating at her like maggots feasting on dead flesh. Life was missing from her eyes. And her breathing was almost forced—a final effort to hold on. Driving home from the airport, to the home that I grew up in and is now missing one person, I saw it for the first time. She had taken her wedding ring off. My entire life that wedding band wrapped around my mothers finger. I had never seen her finger empty. And I use the word “never” in its truest and full definition—not once was it removed or stored away.  It shined for everyone to see that her heart had said yes to another. But no longer is it there.

I still expect to see it shining in the sun. It was simple and delicate, nothing of much extravagant beauty, but it was wholly fulfilling its purpose—a forever yes, a symbolic connectedness from one being to another. I have always been intrigued by the way my mother wore her wedding ring. As kids our understanding of marriage is limited. We have a mommy and a daddy and they weren't family at first but they become family, and sometimes they kiss and its gross and every year they have a day which they remember the first day they said “I do”. And sometimes on the playground, while sitting on the monkey bars dangling our legs we hear of our friends parents splitting because they are angry at each other and other times we see it happen to our own families. We know the facts, but theres little emotion around the subject, and as we grow we learn the purpose, we begin to see the impact of their togetherness and we start to recognize its beauty. 

My mother never took her wedding ring off. Her other rings would be cleaned and polished, and yet that one gold band stayed on her finger. In my small child-sized brain I liked the “never and always” part. How the band became apart of her. In my mind it was like a challenge to see how long it could stay on and I became intrigued by the fact that she never had the temptation to take it off—even to see what would happen. This fascination stayed with me as I aged. I started to understand her reasoning, commended her commitment towards the one she said yes to and her choice to never take it off. Over the years the band became worn. Its polish faded, its indent molded into my mothers finger and yet it stayed as a symbol of 25 years together. 

So when I saw the ring off my mothers finger I felt gutted. All the things I convinced myself were just a dream became real. It is those moments where I feel most out of control. The unpredictable small details within the larger issue. The random truths unveiled, the missing wedding rings or forced graduation party strategies. Memories of what used to be and is not any longer. A unit torn. An era ended and I new one unknown.

What does this say about commitment, what does this say about marriage and its eternal elements? My mind and heart wrestle with this as I remember the daily joyful yes they once said to each other and the gut wrenching tears that now replace it. Twenty-five years broken with one secret. Twenty-five years and not one year longer. See the wedding band is not the piece that holds everything together. Vows can be exchanged, wedding bands purchased and worn, even vow renewals spoken and yet things can fall and break. This is where we see the difference between man and God. Where man often falls, where wedding bands are taken off and divorce papers signed, He remains.

Jesus said, “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. 26 And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. 27 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” (Matthew 7:24-27)

More than ever I understand the importance of Jesus as the solid foundation. A wedding means nothing if the course of the marriage is not continuously sacrificed to the original Creator. When we build our foundation on the rock of Jesus, everything can fall and we remain. If I have learned anything from my mother it is how to walk with a humble heart searching to find meaning in the midst of destruction. She has taught me how to hold on; the importance of standing on rocks and not sand. When everything is taken away. When every part of my world changes and nothing is the same can I still stand? Can I still remember the reason of my existence? Can I still wake up, inhale the air He has let me breathe.

I commend my mother for her commitment. In my eyes she has not broken a marriage. She stayed, she kept her promise. In my eyes she will always be a faithful wife, a loving mother, a woman who sits upon a rock and in time of utter destruction stays standing. I have watched my mother lose everything. Her whole world fallen into the sea and yet she is still living out of a place of love and hope in a future that isn't lead by pain and sorrow. Though the golden band physically removed from her hand, and the indent slowly fading away, her willingness to stay faithful is something I hope to carry with me in my family one day. She has shown me commitment, shown me sacrifice and how to love even when there is no one that deserves it. 

Oh Come Home

A kid died on campus a few weeks ago. He went to the very top of the Rockhill parking garage, closest to the Einstein’s Bagels where I get my coffee every Tuesday and Thursday, and he jumped off. I can’t imagine what his body would have been like. Arms flailing about, positioning his hands towards the ground as if to catch himself—a natural reaction I would assume. Or maybe he was still, and peaceful and his body floated until it didn't any longer. I call him a kid because everyone is too young to die that way. I didn’t know him, but there is an ache in my heart that wish I did. If I knew him I could tell him how much the Lord loves him. How much He desires His child. I could tell him that things get better, that the loneliness doesn't have to last for ever. I wish my scream could catch him. I could pray for him and listen to him and reveal to him the Man that sits on the throne; the One who is coming back and erasing all that is evil and to establish a Kingdom where all sadness flees and tears are no more. But it’s too late now. He’s gone. And his family and friends are in a time of mourning. Probably beating themselves up believing they could have done better. But it’s not their fault. This tragedy I cannot get out of my head. Maybe its the fact that this death in this “college campus parking garage” style is not new. In fact I could write down a list of all the accounts I have heard this same situation. It's happened at every college I have attended. And that saddens me. This is a thing not worthy of a list. There should be no names, no lives lost, no stilled bodies on the side of parking garages. There is a Love too great and too powerful to just give up. 

I remember the time where those massive structures looked glamorous too. They were more than a place to park your car. They were a problem solver. All I needed to do was climb to the top floor where the sky is blue and the skyline of the city was all around. Where it was hushed, peaceful, and one step off that ledge permanently erased all problems. That is what I used to think. But this is false. Problems don't go away. They don't just stop at impact.  I weep for those that stopped fighting.  For those who got so tired they had leave. Oh the sweet resting inhabitant they left. 

The Garden reveals the love God has for His creation. In the cool of the garden the Lord dwelled among His people, pleasantly enjoying the company of their communion with Him. He gave them dominion over all, the holy and righteous freedom to live in the midst of His presence and feast on every tree of the garden, except for that of the knowledge of good and evil. For the Lord said that if they eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they will surely die (Genesis 2:15-17). His goal was to keep them in shamelessness, in a righteous fervent love for their Beloved. I hear often the story of the Fall. So much focus is placed on Adam and Eve entering in sin. Where they broke the covenant, thus giving the serpent entrance into placing a curse over all of the Earth. And all of this is important and true. But what about the Face of God. Oh how His heart must have been grieved to see His own walk away from Him and deny His truth. Because that’s what is was. Adam and Eve’s decision was not just an expression of their free will, but a disbelief in His word, a rebellion against their Maker. The serpent said in Genesis 3:4-5, "You will surely not die for the lord knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened , and you will be like God knowing good and evil." It was the belief that they as the human race could live independent from the Highest of High. Man had taken advantage of the Lord's dominion believing his life was self-sustaining.  Oh how dangerous this is. God could have easily destroyed all that He created. He could have killed off Adam and Eve-- He’s the Lord, He can do anything. But instead He kept them; He let them live. Instead, God drove them out of the garden “lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever” (Genesis 3:22). Life belongs in the hands of the Lord, and only His alone. This was not an act of rejection by the Lord that he sent them out, but one of sacrifice. He let man live, He sent Adam and Eve to work and multiply outside the Holy Land they once dwelt in with God so that one day He could sacrifice His son and restore His inheritance back to the Kingdom. His love is the underlying theme since the beginning of time. The Lord has been merciful to keep us. When the land once more turned from the reign of the Lord, God saved Noah’s family line because of his faithfulness (Genesis 6). When Moses, in unholy anger, murdered an Egyptian, the Lord healed and redeemed his soul through forgiveness (Exodus 2:11-12; Exodus 3). 

         Throughout the storyline of human history, man has consistently turned from the love of the Lord and yet with His gracious mercy He still whispers in the still of night, “oh come home, come back to me young child.” God is violently jealous for His people. He is more than God, more than Lord and King. He is the ultimate Father. He is the Maker who knitted each individual. the triune God in His lovingkindness sat down and dreamt me up and, in the same, the young kid who jumped. And the same for every person who's footsteps walk upon this Earth. Loneliness is not meant for us. Time and time again the Lord has showed His faithfulness to those that call upon His name. He wants His people to return, to look to the heavens and scream, with a broken and contrite spirit, desperation for His company and leadership. I pray that the banner of love will cover every wound across the earth. That no longer will there be bodies falling from garages leaving loud smacks. In every instance where someone does not feel heard, I pray that the Father’s everlasting commitment to His child will be revealed.  

My heart goes out to the family, wherever they may be, hoping that they find a peace in the serenity of the Lord’s kindness. Just as He did from the days of old, saving those with His endless mercy, He will do again for each one who call upon His name. Oh how beautiful our God is to beckon us home time and time again. There should be no lifeless at bottom of parking garages, no lives lost in this way. For our God looks down and screams for His beloved to hear Him.  I am certain that when that horrific sound is made and that breath ceased to inhale again, grief from Heaven cried out. Let this list not grow bigger. No longer shall men and women not know the love of the Father.