This Place.

Dear Azusa,

You taught me things, you taught me people, you taught me life.
I learned about books, and about writing.
I learned about time, and about age.
I learned about people, about laughing, about feeling, about choosing.
I learned about love, about tragedy, about brokenness.
& when I have gone to new places and heights and paths, I hope that I will come back to you and remember the things you taught me.
Like the lesson on life & how short it is and precious the gift is.
Or the time I learned about guarding my heart, or the few hundred times I relearned that lesson.
Or the time I learned that in order to live fully, you have to give fully and risk not receiving what had been poured out, but that even when you do not receive what you are hoping for, that life moves forward and God's hand holds good for the future.
& the times when I feared and worried and ran my head in circles, that you continued to teach me the ways God is faithful and careful with my life and my heart.
This is a place I will never forget & will return to for memories and reminders on how precious and endearing life is & beyond the pain, tragedies, and mishaps, there is a growth and a lesson that puts worth and delight back into it's place. That is what I will seek to remember about this place.

Love, me.


Danielle Nicole.

Fearless God

"God is not afraid of our questions" --Taylor Storey.


This is something I heard a couple of months ago that made me think. And yet again, these words have found their way back into my head.

4 months ago I had a plan.
3 months ago, I heard about a scholarship that rocked that plan around.
2 months ago I was convinced that I would never get it.
1 month ago I had never wanted something so big & crazy as that scholarship in my life.
& 3 days ago, I returned to the original plan.

Life seems to take the most ridiculous winds and turns. I feel like I am constantly looking to God asking, "Why God? Why couldn't you have just have left that part out? Why was it necessary that I put all the effort into something I wouldn't even be good enough for?"

And as I run in circles with my questions to God, I am reminded of how big God's plan is and that even when I feel entitled to know the justification behind his strategies, I am just being silly. & no matter what I demand, doubt, or question from God,
He is not afraid,
in fact, i like to think He embraces my challenges and questions to Him,
with a smirk ;)


Danielle Nicole.

Growth in Grief.

"In much wisdom is much grief"

In the first sentences of deep river, grief is introduced. At first I was taken aback and uncomfortable with the start of the novel. However, then I realized, that reaction was my own instant reaction to want to romanticize everything. We want everything to start and end happy, or "nice." But in raw, real, truth, are things always that way? Does every ending end well? Does every middle of a story even have a white carriage and a prince charming? or huge salaries and nice cars? No. Let's get real here, the middle of most stories is the time of a person's life where they might begin experiencing true pain, or true grief. In the last two years of my own life I have experienced the loss of 11 people I have known. 2 years ago began the middle of my story I have come to believe. You see, we are children and we grow and learn in an imaginative fantasy play world, then we grow older and learn to use our minds academically, and then when that is near its end (depending on how many degrees we choose to pursue these days) we then grow to use our hearts in new ways, ways of maturity, healing, and power. These grievances, trials, and tribulations shape our paths and stories and mature our minds and hearts. Therefore it is through the pain that we become those who we are currently striving to become.

Grief grows us.
through suffering comes wisdom, in our trials we are grown and taught, and through our growth we learn to persevere.

James 1:2.

Danielle Nicole.

Silent God.

Where is God in His silence?

So much can be said in what we do not say, in fact, just as much if not more than what we do say. There is a power in what we omit, & this goes for God too. There is a cliche quote I once heard (yes, that I love) that reads,
"Life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take,
but by the moments that take your breath away."
Now as cheesy or cliche as this quote is, I love it and am reminded of it in thinking about the silence of God because the statement points out the valuable parts or moments of life. It is in these moments that we become speechless, that a loss for words occurs. I think the reason the moments in our life that are extremely sacred, painful and precious, are left with a lack of words to describe or account for them is because of the power that silence has.
In the last 2 years I have experienced the loss of 11 people that were close to me, at least at one time or another. Only 2 of those passed due to a factor of old age, the rest were within a couple years older or younger than myself. In this time of tragedy and complete pain in trying to deal and understand the events I felt God's silence.
This silence made me angry with God.
I wanted explanation, and justice, and comfort from Him in this mess.
But instead I got silence, and more loss, and more silence.
But as I look back and think about how I handled the events and how the people around me tried to help and encourage me I realize that I longed for silence in that time.
Every time someone passed, I was reached out to in a variety of ways and verses. People tried to tell me they knew how I felt, or that they had no idea how I felt. People sent me verse after verse, and note after note asking me what they could do or what they could say that would comfort me.
But I didn't want words. There were no words for the pain that I was experiencing. Or no words for the ways that I would grow because of the events. I didn't crave words, in fact, I ran from them all. I craved silence. Silence was more healing than any words could stand for.
Because there is an incredible power in silence.

Danielle Nicole

"Where are you in your life of faith?"

"Where are you in your life of faith?" --Daniel Pawley, coffee break question of the day.

This question, although I have heard it all my life, is conveniently popping up
e v e r y w h e r e , right now.
So God, Where am I with you right now?
(Right Where I want you.) -- God.
This is what I believe He would or is saying to me right now.

I am broken.
I don't understand why things have happened the way they have over the last three years. But I am beginning to accept them.
I am weak.
I cannot do it on my own & I will never find answers to all the things my heart desires to understand looking towards myself.
I am tired.
My hope and energy has been powered by myself for so long. But it is here in this week, at this retreat, on this snowy mountain is Southern California that I learned, or rather remembered, a valuable piece of the puzzle of my faith that I had been forgetting with the chaos life has brought the past few years.
God loves our brokenness.
Not the despair and the pain we go through, no I don't believe He gets a good laugh at my failures, although sometimes it does seem ironic enough to be divine joke I must say. No, but I do believe that the growth and development that we undergo through pain and trials bring our Creator a smile, even a deep pride in His creation. It is a becoming of our nature, as divine creations that we experience things that would break us in order to mature, and mold, and shape us into greater beings. And in our pain we are often drawn closer to God Himself, which is another piece in the joy God receives from our trials. He desires us to draw near to Him so He can shape us, and in our brokenness this occurs, allowing a divine revival at key moments of pain of life.
Because I am broken, weak, & tired,
I am right where I need to be.
At the start of a revival.
& God is pleased.

Danielle Nicole

Religion & Spirituality.

"There may be some truth to the suspicion that we humans are incurable religious animals, that we are determined to bow down to something." -- Hauerwas and Willimon, Resident Aliens.

What religion are you?
Are you Religious?

This word, religion/religious, has become a barrier, or a blind spot if you will. At the very moment "religion" is mentioned there is a tension that is instantly released into the atmosphere. & why is this? I mean, as Hauerwas and Willimon said, we as humans are religious creatures, and there is so much truth in that. If we aren't claiming "religion," there is a verrry good chance we are bowing to something; money, a relationship, clothing, tv shows, you name it. So how come the very mention of religion brings a flinching wince to one's face & comfort?

We are afraid of committment.
& for this same reason, we are not caused to wince at the mention of spirituality.
No, because spirituality has a safety in it, and a freedom.
A freedom to choose whatever it is that you would like to entail in "Spirituality,"
and a safety of not being put into a box, or stamped with a label, a safety based upon mere mystery of what you are bowing down to.
But Religion, religion is not safe.
It is a committment. A solid decision, that sometimes takes away the freedoms of our lifestyle.
As modern humans we don't like this, we want to be freeeeeeeee, & we don't want to committ to things, that would mean a bigger responsibility than we are genuinely seeking.

Danielle Nicole

Mind Babble.

"We just have so much in common, like we both have 2 dogs! And, we're both from L.A." -- Blonde girl from Lost in Translation, "Evalyn Wa"

It is part of the human condition to cling to familiarity.
Consistency and familiarity give us comfort and security.
We are constantly looking for things we have in common with those around us, always searching for that common connector.

C O N N E C T I O N.

We love to be connected. To fit in. To be a unified part in something.
Because what "fits in" brings comfort and acceptance.

"The very popularity of Endo's novel would seem to proclaim a Japan that is not indifferent to Christianity, but looking for a form of Christianity that will suit its natural character."
--Silence, Translator's Preface.

Christianity in Japan is a Big Mac at a Sushi Bar, it doesn't fit into the culture's character. So what would make Christianity fit in Japanese Culture? This is the question that came to my mind when I read this from the preface and yet, I cannot come up with an answer. To be honest, I don't think there can be a cut & paste fashioned fix that could be done to suddenly form Christianity into a form that would be accepted or "fit" into Japan's national character. This is something I look forward to thinking about on the sidelines of my mind throughout reading Endo's novels this semester.

Danielle Nicole