CSS Web Menus, Copyright Allbuttons.com Lygon's Journals

“Paper and a pen are two of my closest friends, I’ve told them nearly everything.

And in return they’ve told me secrets about myself and been the archives on

my life from my heart’s perspective. They are invaluable to me. I have felt, before,

the Lord teach me through my writings and years later remind me of a lesson

learned yet not remembered.”                                -Lygon

Lygon had an exceptionally intimate walk with Jesus, and would have wanted the same for you. She wanted her life to be a witness of the greatness and goodness of God. Please peruse her devotional writings. Her words are from her heart, from a heart searching God’s heart.

 Be inspired and allow God to draw you closer to Himself.

Prologue From Ecuador During Storm at Windy Corner I Am Weird I Am Yours
Conquering Oneself The Will Have a Little Faith Careful What You Write. Black & White
2/11/07 5/4/07 The Beauty of You 12/4/06  

Prologue

 

To begin a story and to tell any story requires inspiration and direction. Because of this I came to the decision not to begin with the word ‘So,’ but with the word ‘To.’ The latter bearing a direction and a certain anticipation whereas ‘So’ simply prepares the reader for the recounting of certain events of which the writer begins in boredom and finishes in relief. With the appropriate preparation I now begin. Another important part of telling a story lies in knowing why the story is told. For me, this is an account of my first adventure to the mountains of the world, recorded that many may know what happened and, if worthy of the retelling, remember it for some time to come.

I have to admit when I initially tried to think of inspiring words to begin this telling, I was flooded with many nearly negative thoughts. This story is nothing extraordinary, so I thought it silly to write it down as if it were an epic adventure like the ones that Ed Viesturs and Charles Messner and Hillary have been on. I was persuaded, however, by one thought: that one day, when I am gone there might be someone that should be able to read it, if they wanted to. They could remember it and could come to know a little of myself.

January 2006
(after Dad’s arm twisting to write her story from Ecuador)

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From Ecuador - January 2006

 

Then there was me. I felt miles away from really relating to anyone there. Rusty a little bit, but that was all. We did, however, all share a love for the mountains and in that there were no exclusions, only comrades. I never said much, especially during dinner. But I think it turned out okay. I never had to admit that all of their jokes went way over my head and the ones that didn’t I didn’t necessarily have to laugh at. My favorite times were by far the miles and miles, of sometimes breathless silence spent lost in our own thoughts ascending higher and higher until we were no longer in Ecuador, we were in the mountains.

 

They are owned by no one, only by giving certain points names does this vast and untamable place assume a size and might that our minds are able to face. The mountains are always the same, no culture has shaped them, no man ever controlled them. We are all visitors to this place whether we be the president of the country it resides in or a foreigner. There are those from far away that come to the mountains to feel that they belong, then there are those that live at their feet or won the land below them that come to the mountains only to leave them.

 

So see, though we were in Ecuador, the air I breathed was the air my lungs new so very well. Though the house I loved lay miles away, I found my heart in simply another area of the land in which it had grown up and come to love. What is it? It is the freedom of the mountains that remains because they are free.

 

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During Storm at Windy Corner, Denali

May 21, 2007

 

 I prayed not only that he calm the wind, but also that he’d be with me in the storm. As fear drained from my heart a peace rushed in that can not be described. My eyes filled with tears of overwhelming peace as I remembered Him. He was there, in the storm. I felt His presence so strong, as if at any minute He would gently whisper in my ear. He stood directly behind me to my right - the side that would soon drop off into oblivion and crevasses.

He was so strong, stronger than the storm, stronger than the mountain. And I was not afraid. I remember speaking aloud into the storm the promise He had given me: “those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary they will walk and not faint.

 

My lord, was the Lord, the creator of heaven and earth, the very same God that years ago calmed the sea with His words and commanded the winds to be still. This very same God stood beside me now and I had nothing to fear. Song after song poured forth from my heart and I praised Him through the storm.

 

A peace as real as the wind, a presence as real as the snow. This was the difference between the servants of the Lord and those who knew not His name.

 

This was the difference: peace.

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I am Weird

 

Caution: I am weird
I fast because I'm hungry
I run because I am thirsty
I die every day because I want to live
I lead because I follow
I give everything away to become rich
I am weak and broken so that I will be strong
I see more when my eyes are closed
I'm in love with someone I haven't seen
I love the unlovely
I am honored when people mock me
I embrace these foolish things to become wise
I will walk whole heartedly out on any limb He requires,

 because even if He lets it break, He can teach me to fly.
 

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I Am Yours

 

Ever since I could decide it is You who I chose

You are my maker, my treasure, my hope.

You are my God, my Father, my Shepherd and my Lord.

But I’m starting to see that there is so much more.

Where is there to go? There is only so far I can walk with you, Lord,

down this way.

If you are only mine I don’t think we will ever soar.

I’m seeing it’s about time that I, O Lord, am Your’s.

Take me by the hand, O, Lord, and let’s go

To all the places I have never been before.

While I held on to You we only went as far as I could go.

But now O Lord, now we can soar.

Let me be your servant, your child, and your own.

Let me be your worshiper, your praiser, and your son.

Can I be the pot, Lord, as you form my heart,

And let me do your bidding, now, as your will takes part.

I’ve walked this path so long I almost didn’t see,

Contented in the ways I saw so obvious to me.

But your whispers, O my King, of beauty never seen.

By grace have reached my heart, by mercy taken me.

 

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Conquering Oneself

 

To stand on the summit is a privilege not a victory.

No one can conquer a mountain,

it is impossible and does not exist.

All people are mountain climbers but not all people will climb.

This truth does not change for any person:

The privilege of standing on the summit only lasts a few minutes –

no one can linger there.

Keep pushing on and learn that victory comes in the day to day,

not the product of the day to day,

not the few moments in which the pushing upward ends.

Victory and glory come from conquering oneself

not the mountain.

 

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 The Will

 

In all my years of living, which isn’t very long yet enough to have some say, I have encountered headaches to rack an elephant and illnesses to send a lion to the grave. Diseases that eat up the body and ones that kill upon contraction. However, there is one that stands out, one that is much worse than all the rest. No sickness can compare, no sickness can even challenge the disease that is known to come upon the will. Not just the will to live, but the will to live well. Without this a human being is only a hopeless tower of living flesh. Better to die than live with no ambition of the will. The will I speak of is the will to learn, the will to race along the pathway of life in whatever direction. The will, placed inside the soul of a human being, to work hard at everything the hands find to do. It’s the will to fight the flesh. What is this energy inside of a few that seems to propel them forward? Where does it come from and who takes it away? This disease that infests so many that seems to spread with such ease and agility, what is it called? The symptoms are so discrete and the cure so sparse. This disease has racked my body and I feel my flesh every minute of every day crying out to be fed, to be satisfied. The will is deadened and the flesh given voice. It’s like someone else has entered my mind and is controlling my thoughts. It speaks to me constantly keeping me from focusing. I can find the logic and desire the good behind hard work and learning, but the will has been cut off and now lies useless and broken beside me. Oh, what is one to do with a thing such as this? What doctor can set right and bring my will back to life? To renew in me a desire for the better in this world. Joy, love, peace, goodness, self-control, patience, and faithfulness; this is the good in the world, but why, oh why, does my soul lack such as these?

 

Truly, no sickness of the body can be measured against the sickness of the soul. No greater cause for weeping, no greater cause for grief, yea, not even death itself has a stronger sting that this. For a life lived wholeheartedly for one year is better than a life with no ambition that is dragged out in a pitiful existence for a hundredfold of that.

 

Where has it come from? Why have we not noticed its infection? We have watched it come on others, and seen its hard and merciless face, and we allow, not blinking and offering no resistance as it comes to slaughter our own minds. When will we awake? When will we stop pretending we don’t see it? Yet even then, who will save us? Where is the doctor for the will? Does he exist? Do we ignore this infection because we cannot see him? It must be so. Oh, generation, oh my generation, when will you acknowledge his existence and  that you can’t fix it on your own? Wake up, wake up, arise from your sleep, stand up and bring your broken will unto the doctor, the healer, the only one with the power to renew your hope.

 

Again, I say, come, lay down your chains of pride and doubt, and come. Sit on the mercy seat of the One whose promises stand firm forever, and at whose right hand sits the doctor of all weaknesses. His name: Jesus.

 

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Have a Little Faith

January 9, 2007

 

Lord, you are faithful. Make obvious to me Your faithfulness because you are faithful. You have given me this task and I am asking you now to reveal yourself to me as I seek you out. You have given me this task to do and because I trust in You, because I am a daughter of the King, you will not let me be disgraced or give all for nothing. Have a little faith, and walk in it. For just a little while see what faith is like and take Him at His word and use His promises as your armor and protection against the deception in this day. Have a little faith. I am sure of this, that I have not missed You. I have not made a wrong turn that put me down the wrong pathway for my life, for before I was even born you had my days numbered and every day was recorded in your book, every moment laid out. So it cannot be that all this is for nothing, or that my Father has not His hand in it, but with every passing day He rejoices with my triumphs and weeps when I miss the joy He planned.

 

Every thought I am going to think He knows already, yet is still surprised by me. Every word I say He has already written in His book, but He is still captivated by them. He longs intently and is jealous for my love. Why then would He leave me or let me wallow in uncertainty, guessing as to which way to go and hoping I have not missed the way. No, it is obvious the path that He has set before me is not a path through this world but more importantly, a path to know Him.

 

So there is purpose in this work, that once again He is asking me to give just a little more than I thought I had. This is what this part of my life is all about, to find out how far I really can go. Who I am, what I live for. The time to live is now. The time to run and wake up every morning excited about what the world might through your way is now. The time to lay low in turmoil and humility before God is now. The time to seek and find, the time to change and learn is now. Let God transform you by changing the way you think, let your self be corrected and disciplined now. Now is the time to live. Not tomorrow, not in ten minutes, not in twenty, not when you are good and ready. But don’t think you have to do this and become this, your full duty is to love the Lord so much you would lay down your life and value His will above the richest gain of earth. Rejoice when he disciplines you. Look for Him and wait for Him. In ways to please Him be a desperate searcher.

 

 Yes, the time to live and live truly is now.

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Careful What You Write in a Journal

 

A pen and a piece of paper have begun many great things. Good ideas are more often then not born on a piece of paper. Conceived in the mind, but born on paper. I say, the more a person can write, the better the friendship of paper is to a person, the more easily an idea is given breath and given flight. Paper and a pen are two of my closest friends, I’ve told them nearly everything. And in return they’ve told me secrets about myself and been the archives on my life from my heart’s perspective. They are invaluable to me, I have felt, before, the Lord teach me through my writings and years later remind me of a lesson learned yet not remembered. Writing is my pacifier, my comfort when my heart is not at rest. But I have before abused it and put into writing thoughts which deserve no place in my heart or mind. These times I do regret for I remember them. Writing is an honor and to do so means to make hard and tangible that which was not. Be careful, therefore, what is chosen to be made tangible for to do so is to give it a voice of its own apart from you. A passion can be fed thru writing and a desire can be fueled. Take careful thought of what it is you feed. Desires can be evil and passions can go beyond any form of moderation. One should never write in anger except to calm the soul.

 

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Black and White

 

If only I was either black or white! If only I hated fiercely or loved deeply. If only. But I am grey and complacent- and from my complacency I will not be moved! But from its conception and from the beginning of time my heart was intended for passion. Our Lord is a consuming fire! A fire! A hot fire that consumes everything in it’s path that is not made of the purest metal- this is what was intended to reside on the inside of me. I can feel the longing for such pure devotion and passion in life. I lie here today- it has been so long! I need something to work for something to move me! Where is my self-motivation? Where is my will power? I need to find an answer to need to find help! I have no passion for piano anymore, though it’s feels like loosing a dear friend with whom I have struggled and succeeded and loved and argued and sought and found and lost with. But now, where am I going? Lord, you promised in Your word that if I sought Your will in everything I do and if I allowed You to change the way I think then I would know what it is You want me to do and I would know how good, pleasing and perfect Your will really is. But I have such little direction outside of what I just want to do and I am bored. I dread work and I fear failure all day long! I look in despair at what it is I long for from this life and what I have to accomplish it. Money comes slowly and I have forgotten to give what I have gained back to the one who gave it! How far I have fallen! I once knew my Lord, loved Him deeply and longed to be with Him- to pray and learn and hold the truth in my heart! I glimpsed reality and saw the immeasurable value of the pure, unchanging truth- the one, solid foundation in which every word was worthy of trust. I was moved by the need to ever have the truth before me so I would not become patterned after the world in behavior and custom and not see the truth.

            The truth that is not spoken in this world:
                        Everyone is beautiful

                        Everyone is equal and deserving of death

                        The things of this world do not satisfy

                        Listen to the advice of your parents and heed their warnings

                        The only thing worthy of boasting about is that you truly know the Lord.

                        People are as flowers who are here today and gone tomorrow

                        The days of life our numbered

                        Love is patient and love is kind, love is selfless

                        Having fame and money is not success but a burden

                        Everyone has a calling and everyone is responsible for his actions

                        Wickedness is darkness

                        What is allowed into one’s heart affects everything you do

                        Getting wisdom is the most important thing one can do in life.

                        Love is good

                        God is good

                        God is just

                        God loves justice and righteousness

                        God’s love is unfailing and His mercies are new every morning

                        Hating what is wrong is a command and is good.

                        We should delight in honoring each other!

                        What we feel should not determine what we do.

                        Persecution is an honor if done for the sake of the Lord’s name and

                        to celebrate is the only logical response for those who have faith.

                        Do not worry about anything for the Lord is watching and He knows.

                        Simply trust him.

 

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Journal Entry from  2/11/2007

 

During a very trying and “dry” time in Lygon’s music studies at UNC while she was also preparing to climb Mt. McKinley:

“Did you know (in Isaiah 55) the Bible says David displayed the Lord’s power by being a witness and a leader among the nations? Many years ago when I first began to climb the mountains of Colorado, God told me He was making me a witness. I don’t really know what that means, to be a witness, besides being able to testify from a personal experience that God is good.

A measure of a faithful servant is what he does when the master is away. In the dry times, what do I do? Am I still faithful? Do I still love doing His will? When He is not so near, and I am not in His presence, how do I act? According to His will? Do I love Him? Do I know Him that much? Now I know … the dry times are wonderful times in which I can do something for my God. So when He returns, I will be ready, and we will share a meal as friends.”

 

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Journal Entry from 5/4/07

 

“My life is in your hands - my day today is yours because if it was mine I would demand of it things that would not happen and I would only be disappointed by it. But I wouldn’t if it was your day.”

 

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The Beauty of You  12/9/07

 

The beauty of You, makes my soul burst within me.
Gazing upon the mere works of Your hands
Fills me with wonder, and opens my eyes to see.

Sometimes I find the words to say just what I feel,
When You write them before hand on my heart.
But now, I have no flow, only longing.

I don’t know what I’m longing for.
What passion I’m trying to feed.

What a dangerous game that is to play!
And a foolish one!
I am not of greatness and I am not of strength,
I do not live up to the person I wish I could be.
And here I am without thought to the future,
Opening the vacuum of my heart to fill it with anything at all.

But sometimes I’m just hungry for that drive!
For the passion to give myself to something fully,
To that one thing and watch as it changes my life.
It simplifies life and makes it so exciting.
I want to wake up in the morning because each new day

takes you a step or a leap or a mile closer.
Closer to what??? Closer to anything!

Closer to something that you weren’t able to reach for the day before.

And that, my dear friend, is exciting.

Give me a passion for Your name.

Give me that life that wakes a person every morning.
Give me a love for everything that stands for who You are.
And write the Words of Your mouth upon the tablets

of my heart and may the songs of Your heart

be strung across the stings of my soul
I pretend to be wise, but I am a blind fool.
I know Your words but they are not a part of me.
They are merely written on a book that lies besides my bed at night,
I cannot call them out from the depths of my heart.
My heart where they belong.
Be mine, oh Lord, all my own.
Take me where it is You want me to go!

Let me die so I can follow!
I don’t know how, I don’t know why,

but standing still my heart knows it full well.
I don’t pretend to be worthy to go with You,

I know that I am!
Washed by the blood of the Lamb,

the Spotless One, who died to bring the world new life.

 

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12/4/2006


“Yesterday as I was practicing before bed an amazing thing happened. It was almost 2 in the morning, and I was becoming so angry and frustrated I remember trying to literally just hammer every note as loud as I could but my fingers couldn’t do it: They were so weak. This caused me to get even more frustrated, and in a burst of outrage I threw my hands at the piano screaming, but before I could do anything else I verbally spoke the words, “It’s okay,” and my hands went to my leg in a calming touch. I just kept repeating it as I burst into tears, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” I kinda knew it was not me speaking but didn’t think more of it as I just packed up all my things right after that and ran back to the dorm and to sleep. But today thinking on it, it was Jesus! He was there, and He used me to say it. I knew I didn’t think of it. I was screaming with frustration and anger and disappointment and an incredible feeling of trying to fight an imminent helplessness. I cried and cried after that, finally. Tears needed to come and give way to the stored frustrations and bottled emotions.”

Next day’s journal entry:
“More on that night when Jesus comforted me. I felt I did not properly express how amazing it was.
Frustration was oozing from my pores, and I wanted so badly to simply and easily fly over the notes, but my fingers were literally like heavy and slow-motion sausages. I pound on the piano with all the force I could, because it let my anger out. I knew it would not help my playing, but as I missed more and more notes – it eventually didn’t even sound like a piece of music – the pounding wasn’t enough to vent my anger on, so I lost it. I didn’t know how to express it. I had tried so hard for so long and had given so much time – so much more time than the others, and I still wasn’t any good. I saw no improvement. I felt as if I was getting worse. I wanted so badly to be good. I wanted it and was willing to work at it, but I was stuck in a mire; in a cage I could not escape from, and I was on the brink of going mad, but in that instance I felt almost a forceful calm as if Jesus had reached down and wrapped His arms around me so tight that I couldn’t do anything, and He said, ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay, calm down.’ I wish I could adequately put on a paper the immediate change in my composure. I went from fury to calm, limp and crying ... finally. I was no longer alone trying to make it by myself. He was there, and he wrapped me in His arms and said it was going to be okay. He told me to go to bed. I could sleep, and it would be okay. He made a promise as He squeezed me tight, and I began to cry in the reassurance and trust that He would not lie, and I finally released myself to stop practicing and allowed myself to sleep.
Like a father or husband with a child or wife fretting to the point of violence, grabs them and simply holds them tight in the strongest and firmest grip saying, “Hey, hey, hey, shhh… It’s going to be okay.” And then just holds them there until they surrender to peace.
Lord, you continue to amaze me. Day by day your mercies are new and your promises hold true. I love You, Lord, because you teach me and guide me and listen to my prayers. You show me a way out so I do not fall into temptation, and You convict my heart and show me a better way to live. Your love for me is not changing, and Your truth is the only truth. Your will is so good and pleasing: it is perfect. Your ways, I love, Oh Lord. You’ve taught me and shown me glimpses of their immaculate detail and infinite understanding. You straighten out my crooked way and show me where to stop and rest. You’re teaching me to pray and purifying me with fire, giving me strength day by day. To You, my Lord, I owe who I am, and all I hope to be is because you cleared the way ahead and lead me down this way. Glory to God in the Highest! Glory to God, the Lord God Almighty who treads the mountains under His feet. Honor to the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the One who is bringing His people back again.”

 

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