You know what I'm talking about with the phrase "that feeling of Christmas" right? The warm fuzzies, the cozy by the fireplace picture of a perfect family in matching pajamas opening presents near the glistening tree, mittens and hot cocoa after making a snowman feeling of Christmas. Do you feel it?
Me neither.
I've had that conversation more times this week than ever before. "It just doesn't feel like Christmas." Most people around me are blaming the 60 degree weather. Maybe that's it, but I have other theories.
Maybe it's old age and the magic seems gone.
Maybe it's loss or the memories of loved ones no longer here with us. For my family and so many other people I know, this is especially tough.
Maybe it's the busyness of the season and all the calendar things and lists and chaos.
I don't know what it is, but it just doesn't feel like Christmas.
But I do know this to be true: it's still Christmas, whether we feel it or not.
Jesus still came, even though he didn't come as the people expected. They expected a king, and they got a humble baby who couldn't feed himself much less rule a nation from his cloth diaper. I'm sure some of them didn't feel like He was the king, even when they were told who He was. My guess is that even Mary and Joseph, though they knew what was true, didn't feel like He was their Savior that night after she labored and pushed him out of her very own body. The physical labor had to make it feel so much more like Jesus was her son and not God's.
Isn't it so much like today? I've had the conversation with high school girls numerous times about not feeling close to Jesus, and I've had to explain that our feelings don't dictate what we know to be true. I have to preach this to myself just as well. Just because we don't feel like He is near doesn't mean He isn't. Perhaps it's in those times He's nearer than ever and we let our feelings get in the way.
Just because we don't feel like it's Christmas doesn't mean it isn't. He still came. He's still coming. Maybe it's all the other things we've deemed "Christmas" to be that have taken away our ability to see him or feel his nearness or his coming. This is the very nature of the waiting. The coming.
As we wait, we do in fact feel things, but they aren't always the warm fuzzies. We have feelings, but mine in the past week have been feelings of stress, chaos, frustration, bitterness, anxiety, and everything far from Christmasy. I've also noticed a trend that this happens to me every year at this time. I'm wondering if this is exactly why - so I could recognize this very night that the waiting and the feeling and His coming are all tied together in this crazy, unexpected way that doesn't go with the Norman Rockwell or Thomas Kinkade paintings we have in our minds of snowfall and Santa scenes.
It was a broken world when Jesus came then. It's a broken world that Jesus will come to when He returns. It remains a broken world as we wait until that day, but He is here. And that is as close as He could ever be - here with us.
I hope that will sink in and give us all some warm fuzzy feelings but more importantly the knowledge and peace that comes with His presence even when our feelings cloud our vision.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Wednesday, June 03, 2015
On being built...
I drive over the Kennedy bridge (the one in the background) multiple times a day. Many days 2 times, some days 4 times, and even on rare occasions I will cross 6 times from Kentucky to Indiana, Indiana to Kentucky. It's a pretty necessary part of my life living in one state and working in another. I need it, but I don't know how it got there. I wasn't here to see it being built between 1961-1963.
The bridge in the foreground is the new bridge being built right next to the Kennedy. Eventually one bridge will go northbound while the other will be southbound traffic for I-65. Most of Louisville and southern Indiana residents find it annoying and a constant cause of complaint due to the traffic its construction causes. Traffic routes change constantly, and for anyone passing through that isn't from here: I feel for you...especially if it rains. Heaven help us all with traffic if it rains in Louisville.
As I drive over the Kennedy every day I rarely look at the bridge being built next to it. It seems like just yesterday nothing was there, and now there are giant concrete pillars emerging from the Ohio River. Today it caught me by surprise.
I know nothing about how bridges are built. It honestly scares me a little if I think about it too much, and I don't know that you could pay me enough to be one of the guys standing on an incomplete bridge pouring concrete (or doing whatever else needs to be done to build a bridge). It's one of those things that I don't really want to know...I'd rather just trust the process and the geniuses who figured out how to build it. And then be thankful when it's complete.
Tonight as the bridge progress caught me by surprise I realized I so rarely think about the "being built" that is happening in my life.
1 Peter 2:5 says this:
"You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."
Ephesians 2:22 says:
"In him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit."
Most days we don't even notice it, do we? Sometimes we ignore it. Then there are days when you might not see it, but you can't possibly miss it because all you feel are the repercussions of the construction happening in your own heart - life sends you on all kinds of detours, you get rerouted, and things are not as easy as they were the day before. And then the next day you might get sent in another direction altogether.
Construction is hard work. And it can be dangerous. That's why on every construction site you'll see men wearing hard hats and steel-toed boots. When you're building things there are heavy beams of steel and sharp metal rods and plenty of things that might not feel good. And let's be honest--no construction site is pretty. Our ideal picture is not the nails sticking out or half painted walls or a giant hole in the ground.
The finished product is always beautiful, whether it's a new home or a skyscraper or a bridge, but the construction zone is ugly and hard and dangerous. As our hearts are being built into a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit, it is sometimes ugly, hard, and dangerous, but the finished product is going to be beautiful.
Here's what I think we need to know as we are being built:
- We have to have a foundation. Colossians 2:6-7 says: "Just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness." While the building part isn't all our responsibility, it starts with an active choice to "accept Christ Jesus as your Lord" and then "continue to follow him." Any house being built has to have a foundation. If we want to be built, we have to first have a foundation, and that foundation is our faith in Christ.
- We have to know the builder. Who is calling the shots? Is it God, or is it me? If it's me, there's a good chance the building project is going to fail. But if we allow God to do the building, we should also know Him. If I were building a brand new house, I would certainly want to know the builder and I would probably want to know as much as possible about him. Throughout the building project I would probably want to talk to him every day to check on the progress and understand what He was doing. Because I am the house, I want to know the builder as He does his work in me. I want to stay in communication with him as He does his work.
- We have to trust His plan. Behind every building project there is a blueprint and behind every blueprint is an architect who drew out the building plan. God is both the builder and the architect, which is an amazing combination. He isn't just carrying out someone else's plan - He's the one who made the plan to begin with, so He knows and sees the bigger picture. While we might just see concrete slabs and nails sticking out, He knows what we are becoming. We can trust that even though it doesn't look pretty right now, He is making us into something beautiful.
I think this is why Paul prayed this prayer for the Ephesians in chapter 3:
When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.I think Paul had an idea about being built. He endured a pretty tough life on earth, but he had a greater vision for the final product. He knew he was being made into a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit and allowed himself to be built up as he endured all kinds of hardship. He had a solid foundation on faith in Christ, knew the builder, and trusted that His plan was perfect. He prayed the same for the Ephesians, and for us, above.
I pray this for you. I pray this for me. I pray that instead of ignoring the process we will be aware of the being built. And as we are being built, would we get to know the builder more and more, so that we can trust Him more and more and allow Him to reveal a better version of us - one that will be made complete and whole on the day when Jesus returns.
Thursday, March 05, 2015
Papa Don
Today is my Grandpa Don's 91st birthday. Last year we surprised him with a huge birthday to celebrate the big 9-0, because at his stage in life, we probably need to celebrate each year even moreso, right? Not many people make it to 91 or beyond, but I'm grateful God has given us Papa Don for this long and hopefully more years to come!
I was supposed to be driving home to Illinois for his birthday, my mom's birthday, and a couple other things happening this weekend, but because of the crazy snow in Louisville, I'm still here. Normally on snow days I veg out in my pj's and watch movies and whine a lot about how much I hate winter, but for some reason today I felt like moving. (Don't worry, I didn't get out of my bed until almost noon, so I laid around some!) Once I got moving I decided to shovel all the walkways around my house (which is way more exhausting than I thought) as well as shovel all the snow off of and around my car on the street. And then I thought, "hey, it's a great day to take a walk!" Because who takes walks in the snow? Apparently me. And apparently people who live in the Highlands, including a lady named Victoria, who I met as we both walked and talked down the middle of the street since no cars were out and about. The sun was shining and there were blue skies, and I was meeting a neighbor (which I've been praying for to happen), and my heart was just at peace! Even in the snow!
Why do I share all of this? Because if you know me, you know that I hate winter and cold weather. I complain about it. A lot. I'm more than ready for spring, but even last night as it snowed buckets in the dark, I walked out into my street and stood there for a minute listening to nothing but the silence and the sound of snowfall. Right there I just decided to be thankful. It was peaceful. Too often I complain about life and circumstances and things like winter that are out of my control. But one thing that is in my control is the choice to be thankful.
I called my Papa Don tonight to wish him a happy birthday and he cried when I hung up the phone, as he often does when I say goodbye to him these days. My Grandpa has endured a lot of hardship. Being 91, he's lived through the Great Depression, war, the loss of his wife (my grandma), the loss of his middle son (my Dad), and the loss of his oldest son (my Uncle) just this past December. As he has aged he has also lost a bit of his hearing and some of his eyesight, taking away his ability to drive or read. And just after my uncle died, he had to move out of the very home that he built with his two hands and into an assisted living apartment so that they could help with daily things like medicines and laundry and things that are just too worrisome for him on his own. He has lost a lot, and he has so many reasons to complain, but he doesn't. He smiles, and he gives, and he loves.
Today I remembered that I have several videos and voice memos I recorded in December as we listened to him share stories about his childhood. I didn't want to forget what he has been through. He shared of growing up in a time when no one was jealous of anyone else because they were all in the same boat. No one had more than you. They had an outhouse for a bathroom that you had to go outside to use - even on snowy days like today! They didn't even have rolled toilet paper but they used old magazine pages. He talked about buying day old jelly donuts on his way to school as he walked every day for a couple miles to get there. You could get 3 for a nickel. He talked about the war and how he lost friends to the Japanese. He still has a hard time talking about that.
So I felt it necessary today to share words that honor my Papa Don and his 91 years of life and how I'm just learning to be thankful. While there are circumstances in my life I'd love to change, I will choose today to not let them take me down. Instead, I will choose to be grateful and make the most of the life God has given me like my Papa Don has.
Over the last few weeks I've fallen into the dreaded winter depression. A very "poor me" kind of attitude, wallowing in silly little things that should not steal even a second of my joy, but I have let them. Jen Hatmaker shared on her facebook status something similar today that I've been feeling:
And thank you Grandpa for reminding me that there is joy in life even in the hard things, and that every life is valuable.
And thank you Lord for teaching my heart to be at peace today. And I guess, for the snow. :)
ONWARD.
I was supposed to be driving home to Illinois for his birthday, my mom's birthday, and a couple other things happening this weekend, but because of the crazy snow in Louisville, I'm still here. Normally on snow days I veg out in my pj's and watch movies and whine a lot about how much I hate winter, but for some reason today I felt like moving. (Don't worry, I didn't get out of my bed until almost noon, so I laid around some!) Once I got moving I decided to shovel all the walkways around my house (which is way more exhausting than I thought) as well as shovel all the snow off of and around my car on the street. And then I thought, "hey, it's a great day to take a walk!" Because who takes walks in the snow? Apparently me. And apparently people who live in the Highlands, including a lady named Victoria, who I met as we both walked and talked down the middle of the street since no cars were out and about. The sun was shining and there were blue skies, and I was meeting a neighbor (which I've been praying for to happen), and my heart was just at peace! Even in the snow!
Why do I share all of this? Because if you know me, you know that I hate winter and cold weather. I complain about it. A lot. I'm more than ready for spring, but even last night as it snowed buckets in the dark, I walked out into my street and stood there for a minute listening to nothing but the silence and the sound of snowfall. Right there I just decided to be thankful. It was peaceful. Too often I complain about life and circumstances and things like winter that are out of my control. But one thing that is in my control is the choice to be thankful.
I called my Papa Don tonight to wish him a happy birthday and he cried when I hung up the phone, as he often does when I say goodbye to him these days. My Grandpa has endured a lot of hardship. Being 91, he's lived through the Great Depression, war, the loss of his wife (my grandma), the loss of his middle son (my Dad), and the loss of his oldest son (my Uncle) just this past December. As he has aged he has also lost a bit of his hearing and some of his eyesight, taking away his ability to drive or read. And just after my uncle died, he had to move out of the very home that he built with his two hands and into an assisted living apartment so that they could help with daily things like medicines and laundry and things that are just too worrisome for him on his own. He has lost a lot, and he has so many reasons to complain, but he doesn't. He smiles, and he gives, and he loves.
Today I remembered that I have several videos and voice memos I recorded in December as we listened to him share stories about his childhood. I didn't want to forget what he has been through. He shared of growing up in a time when no one was jealous of anyone else because they were all in the same boat. No one had more than you. They had an outhouse for a bathroom that you had to go outside to use - even on snowy days like today! They didn't even have rolled toilet paper but they used old magazine pages. He talked about buying day old jelly donuts on his way to school as he walked every day for a couple miles to get there. You could get 3 for a nickel. He talked about the war and how he lost friends to the Japanese. He still has a hard time talking about that.
So I felt it necessary today to share words that honor my Papa Don and his 91 years of life and how I'm just learning to be thankful. While there are circumstances in my life I'd love to change, I will choose today to not let them take me down. Instead, I will choose to be grateful and make the most of the life God has given me like my Papa Don has.
Over the last few weeks I've fallen into the dreaded winter depression. A very "poor me" kind of attitude, wallowing in silly little things that should not steal even a second of my joy, but I have let them. Jen Hatmaker shared on her facebook status something similar today that I've been feeling:
Onward. Ain't nobody got time to get all squirrely over every little thing. WE GOT STUFF TO DO, right sisters? You squirrely over something? ONWARD I SAY. You're too awesome for nonsense. Drop it like its hot.AMEN, right? I'm pretty sure I've never said Amen after saying/reading/writing "Drop it like it's hot" but I sure am. Thank you Jen, and Snoop, for those words today.
And thank you Grandpa for reminding me that there is joy in life even in the hard things, and that every life is valuable.
And thank you Lord for teaching my heart to be at peace today. And I guess, for the snow. :)
ONWARD.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Changing Clothes
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I often sing those words without a second thought, but when you really stop to think about his grace, it really IS amazing. After reading through the IF:Equip devotional (if you're not following this, start today!) going through Genesis today I was reminded by Kelly Minter how God clothed Adam & Eve in the garden and how he clothes us still today with his righteousness and grace through Jesus. I so often choose to clothe myself with my own sin, guilt, and shame, and I forget to put on the righteousness of Christ.
It reminds me of my closet. I have about a billion things in there...it really is much too big and full. I need to simplify. To my credit, it's big enough to keep all seasons' clothing out without having to put winter clothes into storage during the summer, and vice versa. However, it just means that there are more options than an indecisive girl like me needs in the morning to get ready. I tear through my closet some mornings, putting on options and throwing them off and onto my bed or the ottoman in my bedroom. Rather than putting things back where they belong, I throw them around and cause myself more trouble later having to clean them up.
It creates more of a mess when I constantly put things on and take them off.
I realize this analogy is a big of a stretch, but it finds its basis in Galatians 3:27, which says: "All who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes." (NLT)
You know how when you get brand new clothes you want to wear them right away? I do, at least. But then eventually they get worn out and I get tired of wearing them, and I constantly want something new...thus the closet full of clothes. And my daily indecision. And the mess I get to clean up.
It's the same way when we put on Christ. Sometimes the longer we wear Christ we get weary of how exhausting it seems to follow Him daily (which isn't true, because Jesus tells us "My yoke is easy and my burden is light" in Matthew 11:30). What I think exhausts us more than anything is the constant trying and putting on and off of Christ himself. When we try to switch between our flesh and life in the spirit, of course it's going to be exhausting! But when we remain clothed in the righteousness of Christ, there is FREEDOM and it is light! We can run and dance and sing, and you know that the clothes you can do that in are the very best kind!
So why do we constantly clothe ourselves in so much else? It is already promised in Romans 3:
I'm all about new clothes, so I'm grateful for the fact that every day I get to put on brand new grace through Jesus.
Oh praise to the One who has ransomed my soul
Calvary COVERS it all!
That saved a wretch like me
I often sing those words without a second thought, but when you really stop to think about his grace, it really IS amazing. After reading through the IF:Equip devotional (if you're not following this, start today!) going through Genesis today I was reminded by Kelly Minter how God clothed Adam & Eve in the garden and how he clothes us still today with his righteousness and grace through Jesus. I so often choose to clothe myself with my own sin, guilt, and shame, and I forget to put on the righteousness of Christ.
It reminds me of my closet. I have about a billion things in there...it really is much too big and full. I need to simplify. To my credit, it's big enough to keep all seasons' clothing out without having to put winter clothes into storage during the summer, and vice versa. However, it just means that there are more options than an indecisive girl like me needs in the morning to get ready. I tear through my closet some mornings, putting on options and throwing them off and onto my bed or the ottoman in my bedroom. Rather than putting things back where they belong, I throw them around and cause myself more trouble later having to clean them up.
It creates more of a mess when I constantly put things on and take them off.
I realize this analogy is a big of a stretch, but it finds its basis in Galatians 3:27, which says: "All who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes." (NLT)
You know how when you get brand new clothes you want to wear them right away? I do, at least. But then eventually they get worn out and I get tired of wearing them, and I constantly want something new...thus the closet full of clothes. And my daily indecision. And the mess I get to clean up.
It's the same way when we put on Christ. Sometimes the longer we wear Christ we get weary of how exhausting it seems to follow Him daily (which isn't true, because Jesus tells us "My yoke is easy and my burden is light" in Matthew 11:30). What I think exhausts us more than anything is the constant trying and putting on and off of Christ himself. When we try to switch between our flesh and life in the spirit, of course it's going to be exhausting! But when we remain clothed in the righteousness of Christ, there is FREEDOM and it is light! We can run and dance and sing, and you know that the clothes you can do that in are the very best kind!
So why do we constantly clothe ourselves in so much else? It is already promised in Romans 3:
We are made right with God by placing our faith in Jesus Christ. And this is true for everyone who believes, no matter who we are. For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God freely and graciously declares that we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins.We're all even here. God freely and graciously declares that we are righteous! How amazing is that grace?! We do not deserve it, but it is a daily gift - like a brand new outfit - that we get to put on every single day!
I'm all about new clothes, so I'm grateful for the fact that every day I get to put on brand new grace through Jesus.
Oh praise to the One who has ransomed my soul
Calvary COVERS it all!
Friday, April 18, 2014
3 days
I've waited for a lot of things in my life. My iced caramel macchiato at Starbucks. In line for the women's restroom at a Justin Timberlake concert. Test results from the doctor. Test results from a family member or friend's doctor. For trips to the beach. In the airport security line for trips to the beach. And I'm still waiting for a husband.
But I cannot fathom the waiting that the disciples endured from Jesus' death on the cross to the moment he walked among them again.
3 days. Waiting. Wondering. Questioning. Doubting.
Was it really all true? Was he really going to come back like he said he would? What was life going to look like after this?
We all ask questions in the waiting. Like an ellipsis leaves us waiting for what's next, Jesus dying left so many, in addition to the disciples, waiting to find out what was going to happen next. In some ways I can relate with the waiting concept, but it's hard to grasp what must have gone through their minds that weekend.
The disciples had spent so much time with Jesus. They basically gave every day to follow him around, learn his teachings, learn the way he did life, and then they watched him die. He had given them clues. He told them it was coming. But just as they fought over who would sit closest to Jesus at the dinner table, their minds were not always mature enough to understand the weight of his words.
Maybe then, sitting at the Last Supper, they believed him. But if I were in their shoes watching him be handed over to the soldiers who would torture him and nail him to the cross, I'd be questioning things. And when he breathed his last, I'd surely wonder to myself "Why didn't he stop this?"
The 3 days after that had to be awful. Filled with the darkness of depression, covered with a cloud of doubt, heavy with the weight of grief. I also imagine that they replayed every miracle, every conversation over and over in their minds...trying to remember what Jesus had said, wishing they'd paid more attention along the way. If I were one of the disciples, I'd be wavering between depression and curiosity.
He promised them he was coming back. But we know in human terms, promises don't always carry a lot of weight. Sometimes they're thrown around with little meaning, so did they really truly believe the promises Jesus made? I'd like to think so, but they had to have their moments of doubt.
I know this: in those 3 days those disciples probably dealt with their grief in very different ways, just as we all grieve in very different ways. Some with anger, some trying to repress it and pretend everything is ok, some still hopeful for some kind of turnaround, some in disbelief, some just wanting to be alone, and some just wanting to be in community with each other. After all, they were used to being together, but did Jesus' physical absence mean their so-called "group" was breaking up? What did all of this mean?
Did the disciples just sit in the upper room and pray together as they waited? Did they sit there and talk about their sadness? Did they cry together? Were they fearful?
While those 3 days are yet a mystery to us, we know how the story turned out. The disciples may or may not have even realized at the time what they were waiting for, that it was going to change the world. That it was going to change their eternity. I don't know what they thought, realistically, in the 3 days of waiting. Maybe they didn't even know they were waiting. They may have thought, "this is the end."
I pray that in our waiting, no matter how long or how hard it may seem, we recognize that this certainly is not the end. Whether it's 3 days or 3 years or 3 decades, the story ends in victory, because we know our Savior came back once. And while we wait for him to come again once more, we wait with eager expectation.
But I cannot fathom the waiting that the disciples endured from Jesus' death on the cross to the moment he walked among them again.
3 days. Waiting. Wondering. Questioning. Doubting.
Was it really all true? Was he really going to come back like he said he would? What was life going to look like after this?
We all ask questions in the waiting. Like an ellipsis leaves us waiting for what's next, Jesus dying left so many, in addition to the disciples, waiting to find out what was going to happen next. In some ways I can relate with the waiting concept, but it's hard to grasp what must have gone through their minds that weekend.
The disciples had spent so much time with Jesus. They basically gave every day to follow him around, learn his teachings, learn the way he did life, and then they watched him die. He had given them clues. He told them it was coming. But just as they fought over who would sit closest to Jesus at the dinner table, their minds were not always mature enough to understand the weight of his words.
Maybe then, sitting at the Last Supper, they believed him. But if I were in their shoes watching him be handed over to the soldiers who would torture him and nail him to the cross, I'd be questioning things. And when he breathed his last, I'd surely wonder to myself "Why didn't he stop this?"
The 3 days after that had to be awful. Filled with the darkness of depression, covered with a cloud of doubt, heavy with the weight of grief. I also imagine that they replayed every miracle, every conversation over and over in their minds...trying to remember what Jesus had said, wishing they'd paid more attention along the way. If I were one of the disciples, I'd be wavering between depression and curiosity.
He promised them he was coming back. But we know in human terms, promises don't always carry a lot of weight. Sometimes they're thrown around with little meaning, so did they really truly believe the promises Jesus made? I'd like to think so, but they had to have their moments of doubt.
I know this: in those 3 days those disciples probably dealt with their grief in very different ways, just as we all grieve in very different ways. Some with anger, some trying to repress it and pretend everything is ok, some still hopeful for some kind of turnaround, some in disbelief, some just wanting to be alone, and some just wanting to be in community with each other. After all, they were used to being together, but did Jesus' physical absence mean their so-called "group" was breaking up? What did all of this mean?
Did the disciples just sit in the upper room and pray together as they waited? Did they sit there and talk about their sadness? Did they cry together? Were they fearful?
While those 3 days are yet a mystery to us, we know how the story turned out. The disciples may or may not have even realized at the time what they were waiting for, that it was going to change the world. That it was going to change their eternity. I don't know what they thought, realistically, in the 3 days of waiting. Maybe they didn't even know they were waiting. They may have thought, "this is the end."
I pray that in our waiting, no matter how long or how hard it may seem, we recognize that this certainly is not the end. Whether it's 3 days or 3 years or 3 decades, the story ends in victory, because we know our Savior came back once. And while we wait for him to come again once more, we wait with eager expectation.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Return.
It has been quite some time since I've written here...for reasons unknown and for these reasons:
One reason is this: I've been lazy. Spiritually speaking, for some seasons, but emotionally, mentally, and physically as well. I believe God has made me with a "writer's brain", in some aspects, but not all of it is meant for public sight. Yet I've hidden that gift, not only from you--also from myself. In the last two years I've hardly spent time writing, which in turn means that I've spent little time practicing and professing and processing by expression what God is teaching me. I have in other ways, but writing is one of the ways I express best, and so I've failed to use the gift of words He has given me.
Another reason: what other people think. I care too much about it. WAY too much. And it's time that I stop. I know people who don't get the whole "blogging" thing. They think it's weird and dumb and narcissistic and pointless. And I know people who do love it, but they write because they want affirmation from other people. And I have been in both of these camps until I realized this: Writers don't write for the readers. They write because they have to. They can't not write. And by nature, I'm a writer. My thoughts are in streams of words tied together, and so many of them come so quickly that I fail to verbalize them and they disappear. I have to write. And so I will. You won't see all of it. There will be posts I don't publish. And there will be some that I will and probably shouldn't. And there will be posts that people think are dumb, but I don't care. (I probably will for a second, but then I'll try not to.) When you write publicly, you become vulnerable. And that's a little bit scary. A lot scary.
One last reason: ME. Sometimes I don't think people want to hear what I have to say. Or sometimes I think everyone should hear what I have to say. And there are days when I don't get the balance right between those two. While this is certainly not a platform for my opinions, it's a good place for me to work out and process the truth of who God is and who He made me to be and what my purpose is. My purpose is not just to write, but to tell my story, which is part of the greater story of who God is. And sometimes that means getting over ME. It's not about me. So I'll do my best, through words I'll piece together carefully (and sometimes probably not carefully enough) to say what I need to say to point to Jesus.
So here I go again...I may be the only person reading my own words, but I'm writing because I finally believe it's essential to who I am, but it is not about me.
One reason is this: I've been lazy. Spiritually speaking, for some seasons, but emotionally, mentally, and physically as well. I believe God has made me with a "writer's brain", in some aspects, but not all of it is meant for public sight. Yet I've hidden that gift, not only from you--also from myself. In the last two years I've hardly spent time writing, which in turn means that I've spent little time practicing and professing and processing by expression what God is teaching me. I have in other ways, but writing is one of the ways I express best, and so I've failed to use the gift of words He has given me.
Another reason: what other people think. I care too much about it. WAY too much. And it's time that I stop. I know people who don't get the whole "blogging" thing. They think it's weird and dumb and narcissistic and pointless. And I know people who do love it, but they write because they want affirmation from other people. And I have been in both of these camps until I realized this: Writers don't write for the readers. They write because they have to. They can't not write. And by nature, I'm a writer. My thoughts are in streams of words tied together, and so many of them come so quickly that I fail to verbalize them and they disappear. I have to write. And so I will. You won't see all of it. There will be posts I don't publish. And there will be some that I will and probably shouldn't. And there will be posts that people think are dumb, but I don't care. (I probably will for a second, but then I'll try not to.) When you write publicly, you become vulnerable. And that's a little bit scary. A lot scary.
One last reason: ME. Sometimes I don't think people want to hear what I have to say. Or sometimes I think everyone should hear what I have to say. And there are days when I don't get the balance right between those two. While this is certainly not a platform for my opinions, it's a good place for me to work out and process the truth of who God is and who He made me to be and what my purpose is. My purpose is not just to write, but to tell my story, which is part of the greater story of who God is. And sometimes that means getting over ME. It's not about me. So I'll do my best, through words I'll piece together carefully (and sometimes probably not carefully enough) to say what I need to say to point to Jesus.
So here I go again...I may be the only person reading my own words, but I'm writing because I finally believe it's essential to who I am, but it is not about me.
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
nadejde
Hope.
It’s everywhere.
You might have to be looking for it to find it, but it’s there. I heard it in two movies in a row the other night, and saw it in the preview for another. I heard it in a song on the radio. And I now see it in a tattoo on my wrist in Romanian.
Here are some of the reasons why...
One of those reasons, small as it may be, is because I come home to an empty apartment, night after night, longing to feel known and loved. I just drove home, passing hundreds of houses, filled with families inside and probably lots of love too, and all I could think was, “I wish I had that.” I know my envy is wrong. I know the life I have is enough. I know no one’s life is perfect. I know the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. But try telling my heart that, and it might just slap you back in the face with its deep desires that say otherwise.
And yet I have hope.
It doesn’t make sense. I’m not talking about hope for a spouse or a family or a cute house with a seemingly perfect life & Pinterest-inspired décor inside. But I do have hope that outlasts my longings and desires. Let me go on…
Another reason I’ve tattooed the word ‘hope’ on my wrist is this: I’ve seen countless people living with much less than I have, and I think they get it more than I do. They have more joy, and have taught me much more joy, than I could have known without them. My tattoo is in Romanian. But why Romanian? Because in the 3 times I visited Romania, I was reminded that in the midst of hopelessness, there is still hope. I visited homes made of tarp and scraps of wood filled with more bodies than can fit on the unpaved dirt floors inside, and I cannot forget. As Brooke Fraser’s song “Albertine” goes, “Now that I have seen, I am responsible.” I heard those words for the first time in a car driving down an unpaved road in a gypsy village where shack after shack was before my eyes. I know hope exists, even if sometimes it appears in a house made of scraps.
I don’t just have hope for their well-being, for real houses made of cement and siding and with cute décor inside, or even hope for just their basic needs to be met (though that is one desire I long for). My hope is for these people, the Roma people, and ALL people, to be known and loved and to know and love Christ. They are mistreated in the Romanian society and looked upon as dogs. But there is hope for them…I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and I know Him.
5 years ago, my amazing dad was taken from this earth. It was a shock to all, as he had just come home from the hospital that day, hoping to be on the road to recovery just 3 days before Christmas. He was home just in time to see his 3-year-old granddaughter, the love of his life, open her presents. And for reasons unknown, an aneurysm instead took him from our world. Too early. Too young. Too much yet to be done. Before he could ever walk me down the aisle and gain another son-in-law, he was gone.
It’s hard for most in the stages of grief to find hope. But in the case of someone who knows, or knew, Jesus, it is different. A year after my dad’s death, a friend’s grandfather passed away and I sent him a sympathy card that spoke more to me than it probably did to him: “Thankful that we do not grieve as those who have no hope.” That card has reminded me of 1 Thessalonians 4:13 many times since then, and I cannot imagine how anyone grieving the loss of a non-believer can get through life beyond that death. The only thing that gets me through this life beyond any death or trouble or hardship is this: hope. It remains.
When all else passes away, hope remains.
Lamentations 3:21-26 has been one of my favorite passages for some time now. It says this:
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.
What is it we hope for? What do we wait for?
New life in Christ promises eternal life beyond death on this earth. An eternity in the presence of God. A seat at His banquet table. A mansion on streets of gold. A place where there are no more tears and there is no more pain. All these things are promised to those who have hope in Him.
And that’s why I hold onto it.
Amidst anything I could wish for in this life, any darkness I’ve seen, any loss I’ve experienced, there is nothing worth holding onto more than hope.
When you’re gasping for air, or life slithers through your hands like grains of sand, it feels like nothing is within reach. You can’t control anything, and that’s exactly the point. That’s why hope is there. You’re not meant to control it. It’s meant to control you.
Let. hope. lead.
But hold on tight, because it’s a crazy road, and it’s probably not paved.
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
passion=>frustration=>change
I'm completely convicted. Lately, the Holy Spirit has been bringing to light so many areas of my life I need to be more aware of, and many of my character flaws that need to change. They're still not changed, but I'm very aware.
One of the areas I'm very aware of is this: Sometimes my passion turns into frustration. If something is not as I think it should be, I get frustrated. This happens most often with how I wish the world and the church could be in relation to the gospel, and I am left unnerved and sometimes paralyzed with frustration and my inability to change things.
Most often, I'm frustrated because other people don't help make the change happen, and therein lies the frustration. The changes need to start with me.
Today in passing I had a conversation about a person in our church who is socially awkward and has very few social skills. This person knows, and it affects his ability or inability to serve in various capacities. I got frustrated, because too often when we meet people like this, we cast them off as awkward or difficult, and we fail to press into those relationships and walk with them through the awkward mess to help them to overcome it. In this case, thankfully, there are some people here on staff who are willing to let him serve and to press in. But that isn't always the case.
I fear that too often we want the easy call to ministry. It can be easy to minister to those who are similar to us, but what about to those who are unlovely? Those whose lives are messy and filthy? The ones who can barely hold a conversation because they're so strange? The ones with whom we have nothing in common?
I'm as guilty as anyone.
I'm not always willing to get messy. I'd rather stay on the surface and do the little things I can to help make change happen. But change often requires digging deeper. I need to dig deeper, to work harder, to press in.
I'm involved with a ministry here in Louisville called Scarlet Hope through which we dig into the messy lives of strippers. None of their lives are simple. Their past, their hurt, their pain, their addictions - it's like a tangled web of Christmas lights that have been knotted for years and years, and only half the strand is working. It just isn't easy to figure out. It takes work.
Too often people I know will say things like, "I think it's so great what you do by going into the clubs." or "I could never do what you all do!" I certainly hope that isn't the case for Christians. If God calls you to dig into the mess of someone's life, I certainly hope that just because you see the dirt on the outside you don't cast them off as if they're untouchable. And I deserve no praise for simply going into the clubs, because that's not the hard part. The hard part is following through, sharing the gospel, and then walking with these girls through the mess as they untangle their painful lives and begin a new life in Jesus Christ. I admit, I'm not always quick to jump into that part, because it's messy and it requires a lot of time.
It reminds me of the story when Jesus healed the leper in Mark 1:40-45. In that day no one would touch the lepers. Even their own families couldn't come near them, because they were untouchable. The lepers were forced to live in communities with one another, without any physical touch, and they had to yell out around them "Unclean!" so no one would come near. We all know how the story goes: Jesus actually touched the man and he was healed. Could you imagine if Jesus had never gone near him? What if Jesus had just healed him from afar? What if Jesus chose not to heal him at all?
I fear that this is how some Christians live. They see someone who is living a life much different from their own, and they want nothing to do with it. Or they choose to just help from afar. "A stripper hangs out in places inappropriate for Christians to be." "Awkward people are just too hard to have a conversation with." "People with physical disabilities or special needs require too much work."
But I'm convinced that Jesus would never have hung out only with the popular crowd. In fact, I'm not sure he ever did. He chose the lowly, the untouchables, the unlovely, the messy.
Bethany Dillon's song "You Are On Our Side" says these words:
Today I read on Francis Chan's blog how he threw a banquet, as Jesus told people to in Luke 14, not inviting his friends or brothers or relatives or rich neighbors, or anyone who could repay him in return, but a banquet for the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and those who could not repay him. I love the ways that he and his wife went about this--making the guests feel incredibly special, and I loved the ways they went the extra mile. And I was struck when Francis wrote this: "We do this for donors, why not the least of these?" Isn't that so unbelievably true? Churches, businesses, organizations--we all treat donors like kings, because we know they can repay us with million dollar charitable gifts, but why don't we do this for the least of these?
And again, I'm caught in frustration. My passion for the gospel to take action in my life is met with frustration, because I'm not sure how to change my own life first. Am I really diving into the mess of people's lives in order to help them see Jesus? Or am I just helping from afar? Am I pressing in?
I have no resolve for this. It's simply what I'm working through today, among many other mental wrestling matches with God. I'm going to ask the Holy Spirit to begin showing me where to dive in and where to begin the change in myself. If my passion for the gospel leads to only frustration with the world around me, but not a holy frustration within my own heart to inspire change, then I cannot expect the world around me to change one bit.
One of the areas I'm very aware of is this: Sometimes my passion turns into frustration. If something is not as I think it should be, I get frustrated. This happens most often with how I wish the world and the church could be in relation to the gospel, and I am left unnerved and sometimes paralyzed with frustration and my inability to change things.
Most often, I'm frustrated because other people don't help make the change happen, and therein lies the frustration. The changes need to start with me.
Today in passing I had a conversation about a person in our church who is socially awkward and has very few social skills. This person knows, and it affects his ability or inability to serve in various capacities. I got frustrated, because too often when we meet people like this, we cast them off as awkward or difficult, and we fail to press into those relationships and walk with them through the awkward mess to help them to overcome it. In this case, thankfully, there are some people here on staff who are willing to let him serve and to press in. But that isn't always the case.
I fear that too often we want the easy call to ministry. It can be easy to minister to those who are similar to us, but what about to those who are unlovely? Those whose lives are messy and filthy? The ones who can barely hold a conversation because they're so strange? The ones with whom we have nothing in common?
I'm as guilty as anyone.
I'm not always willing to get messy. I'd rather stay on the surface and do the little things I can to help make change happen. But change often requires digging deeper. I need to dig deeper, to work harder, to press in.
I'm involved with a ministry here in Louisville called Scarlet Hope through which we dig into the messy lives of strippers. None of their lives are simple. Their past, their hurt, their pain, their addictions - it's like a tangled web of Christmas lights that have been knotted for years and years, and only half the strand is working. It just isn't easy to figure out. It takes work.
Too often people I know will say things like, "I think it's so great what you do by going into the clubs." or "I could never do what you all do!" I certainly hope that isn't the case for Christians. If God calls you to dig into the mess of someone's life, I certainly hope that just because you see the dirt on the outside you don't cast them off as if they're untouchable. And I deserve no praise for simply going into the clubs, because that's not the hard part. The hard part is following through, sharing the gospel, and then walking with these girls through the mess as they untangle their painful lives and begin a new life in Jesus Christ. I admit, I'm not always quick to jump into that part, because it's messy and it requires a lot of time.
It reminds me of the story when Jesus healed the leper in Mark 1:40-45. In that day no one would touch the lepers. Even their own families couldn't come near them, because they were untouchable. The lepers were forced to live in communities with one another, without any physical touch, and they had to yell out around them "Unclean!" so no one would come near. We all know how the story goes: Jesus actually touched the man and he was healed. Could you imagine if Jesus had never gone near him? What if Jesus had just healed him from afar? What if Jesus chose not to heal him at all?
I fear that this is how some Christians live. They see someone who is living a life much different from their own, and they want nothing to do with it. Or they choose to just help from afar. "A stripper hangs out in places inappropriate for Christians to be." "Awkward people are just too hard to have a conversation with." "People with physical disabilities or special needs require too much work."
But I'm convinced that Jesus would never have hung out only with the popular crowd. In fact, I'm not sure he ever did. He chose the lowly, the untouchables, the unlovely, the messy.
Bethany Dillon's song "You Are On Our Side" says these words:
You sit at the table with the wounded and the poorI love those words, because they tell of the character of Jesus.
You laugh and tell stories with the thief and the whore
When you could just be silent and leave us here to die,
But still you sent your Son for us--
You are on our side.
Today I read on Francis Chan's blog how he threw a banquet, as Jesus told people to in Luke 14, not inviting his friends or brothers or relatives or rich neighbors, or anyone who could repay him in return, but a banquet for the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and those who could not repay him. I love the ways that he and his wife went about this--making the guests feel incredibly special, and I loved the ways they went the extra mile. And I was struck when Francis wrote this: "We do this for donors, why not the least of these?" Isn't that so unbelievably true? Churches, businesses, organizations--we all treat donors like kings, because we know they can repay us with million dollar charitable gifts, but why don't we do this for the least of these?
And again, I'm caught in frustration. My passion for the gospel to take action in my life is met with frustration, because I'm not sure how to change my own life first. Am I really diving into the mess of people's lives in order to help them see Jesus? Or am I just helping from afar? Am I pressing in?
I have no resolve for this. It's simply what I'm working through today, among many other mental wrestling matches with God. I'm going to ask the Holy Spirit to begin showing me where to dive in and where to begin the change in myself. If my passion for the gospel leads to only frustration with the world around me, but not a holy frustration within my own heart to inspire change, then I cannot expect the world around me to change one bit.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Overwhelmed.
"I know you can be overwhelmed and underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?"
Anyone remember this quote from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You?
This is totally how I feel right now. I'm usually underwhelmed or overwhelmed, but rarely am I stuck somewhere in between the two. When I'm underwhelmed I'm fairly apathetic, halfhearted, passionless, lackadaisical about life in general. And then something happens, and I'm completely overwhelmed with passion, concern, inspiration, challenges, etc. Right now, I'm in a state of overwhelmed.
While most would assume overwhelmed is a negative thing, I am in a place where it is good. Overwhelmed usually means you're drowning, overpowered, or buried underneath the weight of something. These are still very true, but when you're overwhelmed by truth, conviction, and the Holy Spirit, it's very much a good place to be. And that's where I am.
I'm actually hesitant to write anything, because I know it won't do justice to what I'm trying to work through. But as I typically find with myself, when I write, things seem to work themselves out in my brain and heart. I'm trying to make that happen. I've neglected writing for quite some time, and in a way, that means I've neglected a lot of things in my heart. A few years ago I discovered that writing helps me push through the messiness in my heart and it forces me to discipline myself. So here I am.
As of late, I sense the Holy Spirit pushing me and telling me to step it up in some things. Last week I had the privilege of going to the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta, GA and hearing some great words and worshipping with 13,000 other Christian leaders from around the country and abroad. There's something about being in a place with that many people leading the Church that makes you feel both incredibly responsible yet so very small in the grand scheme of things. That's the tension of where I am right now.
Isn't this the way of a leader?
If you are a Christian, you are called to lead. To lead the lost to Christ, and to teach them to then do the same.
So being a leader means you're responsible for lives.
You should carry a heavy burden for the lost, for those you lead, for the needs of the world around you - locally and globally. The message we carry is life-giving, and life depends upon it. So much of the world, including ourselves, is living in all kinds of bondage, and we hold the very keys to freedom.
So why do we forget this? I know for me, I am fearful. I get caught up in my own circumstances. I would rather watch TV. I am lazy. I forget that lives hang in the balance, and all the while I am eating popcorn on my couch and worrying about what to wear and making sure I'm caught up on my DVR or on all the new music that's out there. My life is so filled with the things that do not matter in this world, because I forget to live in the urgency that some people have not heard or do not know about Jesus. Or I forget about the people who do but have questions about him and I don't want to lean into the responsibility of trudging through the mess of their lives with them, because there are layers and layers of doubt, sin, and life experience to dig through.
And who am I, anyway, to tell someone about Christ? What if I use the wrong words? Who am I to walk through life with a high school girl while I feel like I've messed it up myself? Who am I to walk into a strip club and share Jesus with a girl who has experienced hell on earth in her 21 years of life and thinks she's too sinful to be forgiven? I'm only a sinner myself, so how can I explain this?
I'm not worthy.
Mainly, I just have excuses, none of which are valid.
I'm not worthy, but I am still responsible.
But I'm overwhelmed right now with the truth that I've needed to hear, and now I just don't know what to do with it. My heart is wrestling with the responsibility I am called to and my own laziness. There is a stirring...
You know when you make caramel, you have to keep stirring the mixture or it will burn on the bottom of the pan. I feel like this is the same (as lame of an analogy as that may be) with my heart. The Holy Spirit is stirring something in my heart, and if I don't keep working and letting Him stir, there won't be any fruit in the end.
So right now, I'm trying to lean into the stirring. I'm trying to remove the excuses and the worry and the fear and the laziness and the junk in my own life, and instead I'm leaning into the truth of the word. I'm trying to listen to songs that point my heart back to Jesus to remind me what I need to hear when I start to believe the lies that I start to tell myself. I'm going to be more intentional with my time. I'm going to "do for one what I wish I could do for everyone" (thank you Andy Stanley for that wisdom). I'm going to stop trying to supplement the Savior, because He is enough (thank you Judah Smith for that truth). I'm going to abide in Him, and let Him keep stirring.
Anyone remember this quote from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You?
This is totally how I feel right now. I'm usually underwhelmed or overwhelmed, but rarely am I stuck somewhere in between the two. When I'm underwhelmed I'm fairly apathetic, halfhearted, passionless, lackadaisical about life in general. And then something happens, and I'm completely overwhelmed with passion, concern, inspiration, challenges, etc. Right now, I'm in a state of overwhelmed.
While most would assume overwhelmed is a negative thing, I am in a place where it is good. Overwhelmed usually means you're drowning, overpowered, or buried underneath the weight of something. These are still very true, but when you're overwhelmed by truth, conviction, and the Holy Spirit, it's very much a good place to be. And that's where I am.
I'm actually hesitant to write anything, because I know it won't do justice to what I'm trying to work through. But as I typically find with myself, when I write, things seem to work themselves out in my brain and heart. I'm trying to make that happen. I've neglected writing for quite some time, and in a way, that means I've neglected a lot of things in my heart. A few years ago I discovered that writing helps me push through the messiness in my heart and it forces me to discipline myself. So here I am.
As of late, I sense the Holy Spirit pushing me and telling me to step it up in some things. Last week I had the privilege of going to the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta, GA and hearing some great words and worshipping with 13,000 other Christian leaders from around the country and abroad. There's something about being in a place with that many people leading the Church that makes you feel both incredibly responsible yet so very small in the grand scheme of things. That's the tension of where I am right now.
Isn't this the way of a leader?
If you are a Christian, you are called to lead. To lead the lost to Christ, and to teach them to then do the same.
So being a leader means you're responsible for lives.
You should carry a heavy burden for the lost, for those you lead, for the needs of the world around you - locally and globally. The message we carry is life-giving, and life depends upon it. So much of the world, including ourselves, is living in all kinds of bondage, and we hold the very keys to freedom.
So why do we forget this? I know for me, I am fearful. I get caught up in my own circumstances. I would rather watch TV. I am lazy. I forget that lives hang in the balance, and all the while I am eating popcorn on my couch and worrying about what to wear and making sure I'm caught up on my DVR or on all the new music that's out there. My life is so filled with the things that do not matter in this world, because I forget to live in the urgency that some people have not heard or do not know about Jesus. Or I forget about the people who do but have questions about him and I don't want to lean into the responsibility of trudging through the mess of their lives with them, because there are layers and layers of doubt, sin, and life experience to dig through.
And who am I, anyway, to tell someone about Christ? What if I use the wrong words? Who am I to walk through life with a high school girl while I feel like I've messed it up myself? Who am I to walk into a strip club and share Jesus with a girl who has experienced hell on earth in her 21 years of life and thinks she's too sinful to be forgiven? I'm only a sinner myself, so how can I explain this?
I'm not worthy.
Mainly, I just have excuses, none of which are valid.
I'm not worthy, but I am still responsible.
But I'm overwhelmed right now with the truth that I've needed to hear, and now I just don't know what to do with it. My heart is wrestling with the responsibility I am called to and my own laziness. There is a stirring...
You know when you make caramel, you have to keep stirring the mixture or it will burn on the bottom of the pan. I feel like this is the same (as lame of an analogy as that may be) with my heart. The Holy Spirit is stirring something in my heart, and if I don't keep working and letting Him stir, there won't be any fruit in the end.
So right now, I'm trying to lean into the stirring. I'm trying to remove the excuses and the worry and the fear and the laziness and the junk in my own life, and instead I'm leaning into the truth of the word. I'm trying to listen to songs that point my heart back to Jesus to remind me what I need to hear when I start to believe the lies that I start to tell myself. I'm going to be more intentional with my time. I'm going to "do for one what I wish I could do for everyone" (thank you Andy Stanley for that wisdom). I'm going to stop trying to supplement the Savior, because He is enough (thank you Judah Smith for that truth). I'm going to abide in Him, and let Him keep stirring.
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Joplin, part 2
Since there's so much that has been going on since the tornado in Joplin, I'll be honest: I've lost some perspective. I think most of America has by now. Anderson Cooper is no longer there, the news cameras are gone, and the reality of it all has settled in.
Sadly, the reality for those of us not living there is this: we're not really affected.
The reality for those who live in Joplin is this: life is forever different.
(above: the living room/bedroom of my boss Cody Walker's mom's house - Praise God she was found OK and uninjured on that mattress!!!)After seeing the damage there, I'd like to say that my life is forever different, but I've lost some of that perspective. A week after getting back from there I found myself complaining that tiny ants had taken over my kitchen counters, yet somehow fighting to be thankful that I even HAVE a kitchen still intact. Over a month later, I'm still not content with so many things in life, and I'm afraid I've lost perspective.
(above: the kitchen of Cody's mom's house)If you're interested, my friend Tony Anderson answered some questions on his friend's blog HERE. It's a great read from someone who happened to be in the city the night of the tornado.
Continue to pray for the people of Joplin and for Jesus to keep being made known through this. There is still great work to be done. While a city is being rebuilt, there is a Kingdom being built.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Joplin, part 1
I don't even know where to begin...
It was Sunday night, May 22nd, and our High School ministry at church, Collide, had just ended. I overheard my boss/friend, Cody Walker, talking to 2 other leaders about how he hadn't yet heard from his mom. I asked what was going on, and he said that there had been a huge tornado in Joplin, MO and they hadn't heard from his mom or brother. The next hour or so had to be traumatic for Cody & his wife Rachael as they frantically texted and called everyone they knew in Joplin (where they're both from) to make any contact they could with their families.
I started to check Twitter & Facebook from my phone, and from all of the friends I have in Joplin through CIY or Ozark Christian College or at churches there, I was seeing comments like "I'm OK" or posts on friends' walls saying "So glad you're OK" and so on... I heard "Chick-fil-A is gone" and I heard "supposedly it was an F5" and "half of Joplin is flattened." This wasn't the kind of tornado I'd expected at all. This was bigger.
Obviously, you all know that by now after seeing the news, and the world is well aware that this was something bigger than anyone ever expected. No one expected it to happen in Joplin, MO, let alone anywhere.
That night, someone finally got a hold of Cody's mom, and though she had been pulled out of her flattened house, she was ok. His brother got access to facebook long enough from the Stained Glass Theater where he was (also flattened) and wrote on Cody's wall "Tell mom I'm ok." No one knew what kind of miracle this was until later on.
Pictures, video footage, and the news drew me in and I couldn't pull myself away that night. Over the next couple days I tried to pull myself from having my eyes glued to the TV to having my knees glued to the floor in prayer. I know I'm not able to do much, but I can pray, and I knew I could find some other way to simply help.
I had almost moved to Joplin several years ago after a job offer from CIY that I happened to turn down. I can't imagine if I'd been living there. Honestly, I wasn't impressed with the city of Joplin when I visited (this has changed now...more to come on this later), but there are a lot of great people there. Everyone I know who works at CIY (Christ In Youth) is good people. Those I've met from Ozark Christian College are good people.
All of them - faith-filled, Jesus-loving Kingdom workers who seek to change the world. That's what I knew of Joplin before the tornado.
That hasn't changed.
I had to do something last week to help. I felt like I couldn't NOT do anything. The Spirit was tugging on me to act, and I just didn't know what to do but what many other churches knew to do: 1) Pray, 2) Collect donations for people in need, and 3) Go there. I was willing to drive a big truck down there if that's what it took, because I knew it was something God was calling me to do for His glory.
So I asked some of the leaders at my church if I could help. Oddly, at the exact same time I sent a facebook message to our campus pastor to ask if I could do something, he was sending me a message asking if I'd consider brainstorming ways we could help. The next day I found some resources via facebook (social media has been an INCREDIBLE help to those in Joplin - communicating needs to one another and to the world), and found a list of items that were needed. After we made plans, changed them, thought they were set, and then changed them about 17 more times, the plan was this: we'd rent a big truck, ask people in the area to donate supplies on the list, and drive it down there. So that's what we did.
I take no credit and no glory. I'm just thankful I got to do something. I knew I HAD to do something. The Church (big C) had to do something. I put the word out...again, on Facebook. And people responded. Items started coming in, slowly on Tuesday, a few more on Wednesday, and then an overload on Thursday.
My good friend Crista Williford, who teaches at North Oldham High School just outside of Louisville, asked students to fill backpacks with supplies, and there was an overwhelming response from teenagers who may or may not even be believers.
Three guys who work at Humana collected about $350 from the people in their office, and over their lunch hour they went to Wal-Mart to buy all kinds of things (including feminine products - impressive, guys!) to donate.
A high school student went around to his neighborhood and collected whatever his neighbors were willing/able to give.
Countless people gave what money they had in cash or gift cards directed to Cody's mom to help her rebuild and fill her home with needs in the future.
It was overwhelming to see the response that people had shown, but this is what I know: in times of need, communities come together. And in times of despair, God is still good. So are His people.
With so many vivid images still in my mind from the 2 days I got to spend in Joplin, I'm still processing what to say about my time there, but I'm hoping God will give me the words. He allowed me to go, and I think it's His story to share how He's at work in Joplin and in me.
Stay tuned...I'll share more in days to come.
And please, keep praying for the people of Joplin. There is more devastation than you can even imagine.
It was Sunday night, May 22nd, and our High School ministry at church, Collide, had just ended. I overheard my boss/friend, Cody Walker, talking to 2 other leaders about how he hadn't yet heard from his mom. I asked what was going on, and he said that there had been a huge tornado in Joplin, MO and they hadn't heard from his mom or brother. The next hour or so had to be traumatic for Cody & his wife Rachael as they frantically texted and called everyone they knew in Joplin (where they're both from) to make any contact they could with their families.
I started to check Twitter & Facebook from my phone, and from all of the friends I have in Joplin through CIY or Ozark Christian College or at churches there, I was seeing comments like "I'm OK" or posts on friends' walls saying "So glad you're OK" and so on... I heard "Chick-fil-A is gone" and I heard "supposedly it was an F5" and "half of Joplin is flattened." This wasn't the kind of tornado I'd expected at all. This was bigger.
Obviously, you all know that by now after seeing the news, and the world is well aware that this was something bigger than anyone ever expected. No one expected it to happen in Joplin, MO, let alone anywhere.
That night, someone finally got a hold of Cody's mom, and though she had been pulled out of her flattened house, she was ok. His brother got access to facebook long enough from the Stained Glass Theater where he was (also flattened) and wrote on Cody's wall "Tell mom I'm ok." No one knew what kind of miracle this was until later on.
Pictures, video footage, and the news drew me in and I couldn't pull myself away that night. Over the next couple days I tried to pull myself from having my eyes glued to the TV to having my knees glued to the floor in prayer. I know I'm not able to do much, but I can pray, and I knew I could find some other way to simply help.
I had almost moved to Joplin several years ago after a job offer from CIY that I happened to turn down. I can't imagine if I'd been living there. Honestly, I wasn't impressed with the city of Joplin when I visited (this has changed now...more to come on this later), but there are a lot of great people there. Everyone I know who works at CIY (Christ In Youth) is good people. Those I've met from Ozark Christian College are good people.
All of them - faith-filled, Jesus-loving Kingdom workers who seek to change the world. That's what I knew of Joplin before the tornado.
That hasn't changed.
I had to do something last week to help. I felt like I couldn't NOT do anything. The Spirit was tugging on me to act, and I just didn't know what to do but what many other churches knew to do: 1) Pray, 2) Collect donations for people in need, and 3) Go there. I was willing to drive a big truck down there if that's what it took, because I knew it was something God was calling me to do for His glory.
So I asked some of the leaders at my church if I could help. Oddly, at the exact same time I sent a facebook message to our campus pastor to ask if I could do something, he was sending me a message asking if I'd consider brainstorming ways we could help. The next day I found some resources via facebook (social media has been an INCREDIBLE help to those in Joplin - communicating needs to one another and to the world), and found a list of items that were needed. After we made plans, changed them, thought they were set, and then changed them about 17 more times, the plan was this: we'd rent a big truck, ask people in the area to donate supplies on the list, and drive it down there. So that's what we did.
I take no credit and no glory. I'm just thankful I got to do something. I knew I HAD to do something. The Church (big C) had to do something. I put the word out...again, on Facebook. And people responded. Items started coming in, slowly on Tuesday, a few more on Wednesday, and then an overload on Thursday.
My good friend Crista Williford, who teaches at North Oldham High School just outside of Louisville, asked students to fill backpacks with supplies, and there was an overwhelming response from teenagers who may or may not even be believers.
Three guys who work at Humana collected about $350 from the people in their office, and over their lunch hour they went to Wal-Mart to buy all kinds of things (including feminine products - impressive, guys!) to donate.
A high school student went around to his neighborhood and collected whatever his neighbors were willing/able to give.
Countless people gave what money they had in cash or gift cards directed to Cody's mom to help her rebuild and fill her home with needs in the future.
It was overwhelming to see the response that people had shown, but this is what I know: in times of need, communities come together. And in times of despair, God is still good. So are His people.
With so many vivid images still in my mind from the 2 days I got to spend in Joplin, I'm still processing what to say about my time there, but I'm hoping God will give me the words. He allowed me to go, and I think it's His story to share how He's at work in Joplin and in me.
Stay tuned...I'll share more in days to come.
And please, keep praying for the people of Joplin. There is more devastation than you can even imagine.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Dirty, Rotten Hearts
“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.”
--Proverbs 14:30
This verse stopped me dead in my tracks tonight as I was reading through the 14th chapter of Proverbs.
Just yesterday at church, one of our teaching pastors preached a sermon about guarding the heart rather than modifying behavior, which is so often the route we choose. We’ll take care of the outside of our lives, the parts that people see, and all the while our hearts are rotting inside. Our spiritual life is decaying daily while we seem to have it all together on the outside, wrapped in a perfect little outfit with a bow on top.
He used the analogy of very large trees being knocked over by the wind. It’s common thought that a strong wind is what has the power to uproot a large, old tree, but the truth is usually that the tree has been dying and rotting from the inside for years. By the time it reaches such great decay, it doesn’t take too strong a wind to knock it down completely.
In fact, this happened in my own backyard just 2 weeks ago. There was a monstrous tree in the neighbor’s yard with 3 major branch sections. Apparently earlier in the week one giant section had fallen one direction, but I must have missed it. A few nights later that week I was watching TV when I thought I heard a gunshot or an explosion in my yard. I looked out the back door, and the second part of the tree had fallen on a transformer, causing it to blow up.
The next morning on my way out the door to work (running late, as usual) a man from the neighborhood was surveying the damage out on the sidewalk and called me over by yelling, “You better be careful!” To my knowledge, the tree hadn’t done anything that would harm me, but I went over to be friendly and see what happened. He pointed out where the tree had fallen and how it had occurred. The tree had been covered in ivy, and that ivy had sucked all the moisture out from the inside of the tree, so the tree had been dried out for a long time. Two of the large sections had already fallen, and it was only a matter of time before the third part was going to fall…and when it did—it was going to fall right on my house!
So when Kyle Idleman preached this past Sunday about the heart and how trees decay from the inside and can be blown over or swayed fairly easily, I thought about that tree in the backyard and I thought about my heart.
I’ve got a lot of junk in my heart that I don’t want other people to see. There are damaged parts in there, some areas are just ignored and covered in cobwebs, and some parts are tucked away on purpose because I’d rather not address them and make changes. Some areas are just ruined by what I’ve let into my heart, and some areas are full and healthy because of what I have allowed in.
But when I read Proverbs 14:30 tonight, I knew immediately that my own envy and bitterness and lack of peace was an area of my heart that needed to be addressed. I’ve noticed that the effects of that part of my heart’s decay have been surfacing lately, and it’s affecting my outward behavior and the way I treat other people.
I want what they have. I compare myself with others. I want to be somewhere else with my life. I never pictured myself here at this stage of life. I don’t understand why other people’s dreams have come true and mine haven’t. I’m not satisfied with parts of my life. I want more. I don’t think it’s fair when I have to make decisions on my own, and I don’t think it’s fair when it seems that everything just “always works out” for other people.
It’s dirty. The envy, the bitterness, the pride, the conflict in my heart. It’s all destroying me from the inside out, and it’s ugly. Decay isn’t pretty. Have you ever seen mold? Gross. I’d like to stay as far away from that stuff as possible, and yet I forget I’m allowing these feelings and sins fester inside and eat away at a heart that should be beating with passion for a world in much greater need than I.
Thankfully, last week the section of the neighbor’s tree that was headed for my house was cut down altogether. All that’s left is a giant stump in their backyard. And you know what the greatest part about that is? It has allowed so much more light into my backyard than I had before. When the sun shines, it shines more brightly back there & the flowers in my little garden will be able to grow more! (And at night, the streetlamps shine more light into the yard, and I’m hoping that will be enough light to keep my friend the possum far away!)
So before my own heart gets eaten completely away, I’m going to be working hard to get at the root and cut that sin away. I don’t yet know what it’s going to take to do that, and maybe it will be my own awareness and boundaries with where I let my mind wander. But I certainly don’t want my body wasting away because of the things that have sucked the life out of my heart—the very organ that gives life to the whole body. I hope that when I cut out the decay, more light will shine into my heart and out through my life.
“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.”
--Ezekiel 36:25-27
--Proverbs 14:30
This verse stopped me dead in my tracks tonight as I was reading through the 14th chapter of Proverbs.
Just yesterday at church, one of our teaching pastors preached a sermon about guarding the heart rather than modifying behavior, which is so often the route we choose. We’ll take care of the outside of our lives, the parts that people see, and all the while our hearts are rotting inside. Our spiritual life is decaying daily while we seem to have it all together on the outside, wrapped in a perfect little outfit with a bow on top.
He used the analogy of very large trees being knocked over by the wind. It’s common thought that a strong wind is what has the power to uproot a large, old tree, but the truth is usually that the tree has been dying and rotting from the inside for years. By the time it reaches such great decay, it doesn’t take too strong a wind to knock it down completely.
In fact, this happened in my own backyard just 2 weeks ago. There was a monstrous tree in the neighbor’s yard with 3 major branch sections. Apparently earlier in the week one giant section had fallen one direction, but I must have missed it. A few nights later that week I was watching TV when I thought I heard a gunshot or an explosion in my yard. I looked out the back door, and the second part of the tree had fallen on a transformer, causing it to blow up.
The next morning on my way out the door to work (running late, as usual) a man from the neighborhood was surveying the damage out on the sidewalk and called me over by yelling, “You better be careful!” To my knowledge, the tree hadn’t done anything that would harm me, but I went over to be friendly and see what happened. He pointed out where the tree had fallen and how it had occurred. The tree had been covered in ivy, and that ivy had sucked all the moisture out from the inside of the tree, so the tree had been dried out for a long time. Two of the large sections had already fallen, and it was only a matter of time before the third part was going to fall…and when it did—it was going to fall right on my house!
So when Kyle Idleman preached this past Sunday about the heart and how trees decay from the inside and can be blown over or swayed fairly easily, I thought about that tree in the backyard and I thought about my heart.
I’ve got a lot of junk in my heart that I don’t want other people to see. There are damaged parts in there, some areas are just ignored and covered in cobwebs, and some parts are tucked away on purpose because I’d rather not address them and make changes. Some areas are just ruined by what I’ve let into my heart, and some areas are full and healthy because of what I have allowed in.
But when I read Proverbs 14:30 tonight, I knew immediately that my own envy and bitterness and lack of peace was an area of my heart that needed to be addressed. I’ve noticed that the effects of that part of my heart’s decay have been surfacing lately, and it’s affecting my outward behavior and the way I treat other people.
I want what they have. I compare myself with others. I want to be somewhere else with my life. I never pictured myself here at this stage of life. I don’t understand why other people’s dreams have come true and mine haven’t. I’m not satisfied with parts of my life. I want more. I don’t think it’s fair when I have to make decisions on my own, and I don’t think it’s fair when it seems that everything just “always works out” for other people.
It’s dirty. The envy, the bitterness, the pride, the conflict in my heart. It’s all destroying me from the inside out, and it’s ugly. Decay isn’t pretty. Have you ever seen mold? Gross. I’d like to stay as far away from that stuff as possible, and yet I forget I’m allowing these feelings and sins fester inside and eat away at a heart that should be beating with passion for a world in much greater need than I.
Thankfully, last week the section of the neighbor’s tree that was headed for my house was cut down altogether. All that’s left is a giant stump in their backyard. And you know what the greatest part about that is? It has allowed so much more light into my backyard than I had before. When the sun shines, it shines more brightly back there & the flowers in my little garden will be able to grow more! (And at night, the streetlamps shine more light into the yard, and I’m hoping that will be enough light to keep my friend the possum far away!)
So before my own heart gets eaten completely away, I’m going to be working hard to get at the root and cut that sin away. I don’t yet know what it’s going to take to do that, and maybe it will be my own awareness and boundaries with where I let my mind wander. But I certainly don’t want my body wasting away because of the things that have sucked the life out of my heart—the very organ that gives life to the whole body. I hope that when I cut out the decay, more light will shine into my heart and out through my life.
“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.”
--Ezekiel 36:25-27
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
One Thing I Know...
Oh God, one thing I know: You are good.
The other day someone texted me regarding something great that had happened, and at the end it said, “God is good.” When I read it, I thought “Well duh!” And then it hit me how often we praise Him for His goodness when things truly are good as we see them, but what about when we don’t see the good?
There are things in life that don’t look good on the outside. I’d certainly love to change some things about past experiences that hurt me or longings that are yet to be fulfilled or losses I’ve had to endure. Those things don’t look good upon first glance. In fact, they usually look terrible, and I’d like to say “um, thanks, but no thanks God!”
Don’t we all have that stuff? Don’t we all wish we could pick and choose the situations we find ourselves in like in a buffet line? Of course we’d all pick the good. Who doesn’t love a good juicy steak or yummy mashed potatoes or delicious strawberry shortcake with ice cream? Who would choose the bad stuff—like turnip greens, stinky cabbage, or straight vinegar? Very few people, I’d assume.
We don’t typically choose the bad in life, but sometimes it gets put on our plate. And when it does, we don’t normally look at it and say, “Yes! God is good.”
We ask questions. We doubt. We complain. We get jealous of what other people have. We get bitter and hardened hearts. We grow weary of relying on God and would just rather get along by ourselves. We wallow in self-pity.
In all of these ways, are we questioning God’s goodness just a little?
Don’t get me wrong; these things are a normal part of being human. I am fairly certain God knew we’d do this, but I’m more certain that He wishes we’d see His bigger picture. I wonder if He’s saying, in those moments, “Just wait…it looks bad, but one day you will see the good.” I don’t believe in the whole “everything happens for a reason” mentality, but I do think God can REDEEM everything and bring good from it. I believe Romans 8:28 when it says “we know that in ALL things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Not in merely some things, but in ALL things He works for our good. And, ultimately, our good (what’s best for us) is HIS good. Our good is His will being done, His Kingdom being advanced, His Name being made known.
Right now I know of more people than I can count on my fingers who are hurting in a variety of ways. One is pleading for a baby and experiencing a loss. Another is in the hospital and probably pretty lonely. Another is making desperate attempts to survive in this world and making all the wrong decisions. A family across the country is watching their little girl suffer a destructive disease and fighting the battle against it. Another is struggling with friendships. Different people. Different situations. Different hurts. Some of them are believers, and some are not.
But I’m positive that ALL of them have been led to this place of wondering, maybe pleading with God, asking “WHY?” and wish their circumstances were not so.
I have been there.
I have asked that question many times, and I still keep asking.
I haven’t gotten many answers. I’m left unknowingly wondering about much, except for this one thing I DO know: that He is good.
Even when my world isn’t good, HE is good.
Once again, a song from the Oaks Worship album Lift Up the Light reminded me of this truth tonight. (I’m telling you, these songs are reaching down into the depths of my heart in ways a song hasn’t done in a long time. I highly recommend that you check out this album!!!)
With that said, I’ll end with these lyrics:
Oh God, one thing I know:
Every good gift flows from your heart
From the father of the heavenly lights.
You don’t change like shifting shadows-
Your light shines & my heart glows.
In mercy, provision, healing, compassion, freedom, redemption.
Your light shines & my heart glows.
One thing I know: You are good.
One thing I know: You are good.
One thing I know: You are good.
The other day someone texted me regarding something great that had happened, and at the end it said, “God is good.” When I read it, I thought “Well duh!” And then it hit me how often we praise Him for His goodness when things truly are good as we see them, but what about when we don’t see the good?
There are things in life that don’t look good on the outside. I’d certainly love to change some things about past experiences that hurt me or longings that are yet to be fulfilled or losses I’ve had to endure. Those things don’t look good upon first glance. In fact, they usually look terrible, and I’d like to say “um, thanks, but no thanks God!”
Don’t we all have that stuff? Don’t we all wish we could pick and choose the situations we find ourselves in like in a buffet line? Of course we’d all pick the good. Who doesn’t love a good juicy steak or yummy mashed potatoes or delicious strawberry shortcake with ice cream? Who would choose the bad stuff—like turnip greens, stinky cabbage, or straight vinegar? Very few people, I’d assume.
We don’t typically choose the bad in life, but sometimes it gets put on our plate. And when it does, we don’t normally look at it and say, “Yes! God is good.”
We ask questions. We doubt. We complain. We get jealous of what other people have. We get bitter and hardened hearts. We grow weary of relying on God and would just rather get along by ourselves. We wallow in self-pity.
In all of these ways, are we questioning God’s goodness just a little?
Don’t get me wrong; these things are a normal part of being human. I am fairly certain God knew we’d do this, but I’m more certain that He wishes we’d see His bigger picture. I wonder if He’s saying, in those moments, “Just wait…it looks bad, but one day you will see the good.” I don’t believe in the whole “everything happens for a reason” mentality, but I do think God can REDEEM everything and bring good from it. I believe Romans 8:28 when it says “we know that in ALL things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Not in merely some things, but in ALL things He works for our good. And, ultimately, our good (what’s best for us) is HIS good. Our good is His will being done, His Kingdom being advanced, His Name being made known.
Right now I know of more people than I can count on my fingers who are hurting in a variety of ways. One is pleading for a baby and experiencing a loss. Another is in the hospital and probably pretty lonely. Another is making desperate attempts to survive in this world and making all the wrong decisions. A family across the country is watching their little girl suffer a destructive disease and fighting the battle against it. Another is struggling with friendships. Different people. Different situations. Different hurts. Some of them are believers, and some are not.
But I’m positive that ALL of them have been led to this place of wondering, maybe pleading with God, asking “WHY?” and wish their circumstances were not so.
I have been there.
I have asked that question many times, and I still keep asking.
I haven’t gotten many answers. I’m left unknowingly wondering about much, except for this one thing I DO know: that He is good.
Even when my world isn’t good, HE is good.
Once again, a song from the Oaks Worship album Lift Up the Light reminded me of this truth tonight. (I’m telling you, these songs are reaching down into the depths of my heart in ways a song hasn’t done in a long time. I highly recommend that you check out this album!!!)
With that said, I’ll end with these lyrics:
Oh God, one thing I know:
Every good gift flows from your heart
From the father of the heavenly lights.
You don’t change like shifting shadows-
Your light shines & my heart glows.
In mercy, provision, healing, compassion, freedom, redemption.
Your light shines & my heart glows.
One thing I know: You are good.
One thing I know: You are good.
One thing I know: You are good.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
love + love = new life
"Your love is deep; Your love is wide. Your love has breathed in me new life." (Forever - from the Oaks Worship album Lift Up the Light)
Have you ever noticed the change in people when they find love?
It's like their lives completely change. The way they use their time, the things they think about, the way they just ooze happiness?
It's evident in newlyweds as they begin a marriage. Two people who chose to love one another begin a new life.
And for most (not all, but most), the next thing in life is a baby. And I'm not about to get into how that happens, but it's obvious that, again, two people who love each other bring new life into the world.
It's evident that where there is love, new life abounds. Change is inevitable. Some of that is fun, some is easy, some is painful, some is difficult. But love + love = new life.
I'm thinking about how this equation works with Jesus.
Jesus loves me, this I know. But I forget that a lot. It's a Truth that's hidden somewhere so deep down that at times it creeps to the surface, and other times I have to dig down past all the junk I've put in the way to reach it. I know His love has never gone anywhere, but I've smothered it, covered it with other things, people, ideas, ministries, TV shows, opinions, songs, etc. In a sense I've been saying "Jesus, your love isn't enough. I need more or something else."I know in my head that He is enough, but I don't let that knowledge trickle down into my heart as often as I should.
But what happens when we choose to love Him back?
Every single time?
New life.
He never fails.
His love never fails.
If we've forgotten it, He still loves us.
If we've walked away, He still loves us.
If we've covered it up with other things, He still loves us.
All the while, He's reaching out His hand to us, waiting for us to reach back.
And even more than a new couple gets tingles and butterflies the first time they hold hands, those feelings of joy overflow when we reach back for Jesus' hand.
"Oh, the joy that floods my soul when I'm with you Lord..." (Take Me In - from the Oaks Worship album again)
That is the deepest form of new life that could ever possibly exist.
When we see a new believer accept Jesus for the first time & become baptized, it's like seeing those two hands meet. A new life begins.
And even when those who already believe, those who are "old" in their faith, those who have forgotten or covered up His love with other temporary loves, simply remember & love Him in return, how beautiful that new life is that springs up once again.
As spring approaches I love that new life is around me everywhere. Flowers are beginning to bloom, the magnolia trees are taking my breath away again, and the sidewalks are coming alive with people walking or running. Winter is making its closing remarks, and Spring is bursting forth.
In the same way, every spring there's a little bit of winter in my soul that has to part ways (and I'm thankful for that), and there is ground that needs to be tilled for new life to spring up.
The reminder of His love for me tonight came through a song I was listening to, and that's all it took for me to remember. Of course, His Word is there as a constant reminder, but tonight it came in a song. I'll be hard at work, tilling the ground that needs prepared, but all the while He is creating new life.
Thank you Jesus, for this new life you so constantly offer us through your unending love, and thank you for letting us love you back even when we're inconsistent.
Have you ever noticed the change in people when they find love?
It's like their lives completely change. The way they use their time, the things they think about, the way they just ooze happiness?
It's evident in newlyweds as they begin a marriage. Two people who chose to love one another begin a new life.
And for most (not all, but most), the next thing in life is a baby. And I'm not about to get into how that happens, but it's obvious that, again, two people who love each other bring new life into the world.
It's evident that where there is love, new life abounds. Change is inevitable. Some of that is fun, some is easy, some is painful, some is difficult. But love + love = new life.
I'm thinking about how this equation works with Jesus.
Jesus loves me, this I know. But I forget that a lot. It's a Truth that's hidden somewhere so deep down that at times it creeps to the surface, and other times I have to dig down past all the junk I've put in the way to reach it. I know His love has never gone anywhere, but I've smothered it, covered it with other things, people, ideas, ministries, TV shows, opinions, songs, etc. In a sense I've been saying "Jesus, your love isn't enough. I need more or something else."I know in my head that He is enough, but I don't let that knowledge trickle down into my heart as often as I should.
But what happens when we choose to love Him back?
Every single time?
New life.
He never fails.
His love never fails.
If we've forgotten it, He still loves us.
If we've walked away, He still loves us.
If we've covered it up with other things, He still loves us.
All the while, He's reaching out His hand to us, waiting for us to reach back.
And even more than a new couple gets tingles and butterflies the first time they hold hands, those feelings of joy overflow when we reach back for Jesus' hand.
"Oh, the joy that floods my soul when I'm with you Lord..." (Take Me In - from the Oaks Worship album again)
That is the deepest form of new life that could ever possibly exist.
When we see a new believer accept Jesus for the first time & become baptized, it's like seeing those two hands meet. A new life begins.
And even when those who already believe, those who are "old" in their faith, those who have forgotten or covered up His love with other temporary loves, simply remember & love Him in return, how beautiful that new life is that springs up once again.
As spring approaches I love that new life is around me everywhere. Flowers are beginning to bloom, the magnolia trees are taking my breath away again, and the sidewalks are coming alive with people walking or running. Winter is making its closing remarks, and Spring is bursting forth.
In the same way, every spring there's a little bit of winter in my soul that has to part ways (and I'm thankful for that), and there is ground that needs to be tilled for new life to spring up.
The reminder of His love for me tonight came through a song I was listening to, and that's all it took for me to remember. Of course, His Word is there as a constant reminder, but tonight it came in a song. I'll be hard at work, tilling the ground that needs prepared, but all the while He is creating new life.
Thank you Jesus, for this new life you so constantly offer us through your unending love, and thank you for letting us love you back even when we're inconsistent.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Pray for Kate
I feel immensely burdened to take 5 minutes out of my day to spread the word asking people to pray for this sweet little girl, who I don't even know, who has been battling cancer for the past 2 years with more grace and maturity than I could ever hope for in her situation. I'm moved by her story every time I read it, and last week I sobbed on my couch for quite awhile reading their latest update at the discovery of more possible cancer.You can read more about her story on the blog at this site devoted to praying for her: http://www.prayforkate.com
Pray that her PET scan today (3:30 Eastern time) shows no sign of cancerous activity. In this, pray for complete HEALING.
No matter the results, pray for WISDOM for her doctors and those caring for her medical needs.
Pray also for her parents, Aaron & Holly, as they seek WISDOM and must make quick decisions in terms of treatment following her PET scan today.
Most importantly, pray for GLORY to be given to God in this, through this, after this. No matter the results, HE IS GOOD.
If you want to read more from both her parents, Holly and Aaron, you can check out the journals they write online. Holly writes on the blog at CaringBridge, which is tied to the http://www.prayforkate.com site, and Aaron writes on his blog here.
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