The Spreadsheet Gospel.xls
(What? I like Excel.)
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Sunday, December 19, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Quit Sipping Tea
It's almost like a scene out of the movie Titanic: a massive ship is sinking and countless bodies are flailing their limbs as they struggle to survive in freezing dark waters. A handful of rescue boats miraculously appear out of nowhere; there is plenty of space on each boat, but time is limited and so is the number of rescue crew members. Now imagine this: I am one of the fortunate few to immediately get scooped up, and somehow, my physical recovery is instantaneous. How much sense, then, would it make for me to proceed to enjoy the amenities of my newly boarded (let's say extravagant) vessel when manpower is specifically required to pull in more of the drowning souls? None! No sense whatsoever! I would imagine that if the Captain of the ship came by and saw me (healthy and able) sipping tea and relaxing while people were suffering and dying, He wouldn't be very pleased. Think hard about this--and on more than one occasion.*
When I was being saved, there was no discussion as to whether I would, in turn, help out in rescuing other people. It wasn't even a conscious thought, not a wonder of any sort among the Captain or crew. The rescue workers were reacting to the Need and it was naturally assumed that I would respond in the same manner.
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* plank in my eye, too
When I was being saved, there was no discussion as to whether I would, in turn, help out in rescuing other people. It wasn't even a conscious thought, not a wonder of any sort among the Captain or crew. The rescue workers were reacting to the Need and it was naturally assumed that I would respond in the same manner.
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* plank in my eye, too
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Squirrels
Daughter: Why is that squirrel chasing the other squirrel?
Dad: Because he loves her.
Daughter: Why is the other squirrel running away?
Dad: Because she's scared.
Dad: Because he loves her.
Daughter: Why is the other squirrel running away?
Dad: Because she's scared.
Scene from the movie New York, I Love You
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Sunday, October 31, 2010
Just Sometimes
Just sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is keep your mouth shut...
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Friday, October 29, 2010
Sufficient
How is the LORD more glorified:
(1) God granting a gift or a straight path,
and then me responding with a thanks
(however sincere it may be), or
(2) me not receiving anything brand new,
being satisfied with what Jesus has already done,
and then me responding with everything that I have
(however little it may be)?
In how the question is framed, the favored answer is pretty clear. The point, however, is that maybe God doesn't act (outwardly and obvious at least) as much as we'd like Him to because He's already given us the free will to make choices that are, by definition, not dictated by divine automation or personal circumstance.
Free will to hold on because of hope, let go because of Trust,
hate because it's easy, love even if it hurts*.
Free will to endure, persevere... be teachable.
Free will to be miserable.
Free will to be happy.
Free will to boldly look like a fool or project an untouchable façade.
Free will to speak out, remain silent, whine, complain, shut up, just do it.
Free will to be gentle.
Free will to be disobedient, have my own way.
Free will to do any verb under the sun.
Free will to give action-based thanks.
Free will to give Character-based glory.
Man, we have a lot of freedom!
God has already made His Move--the only thing that matters--and now the ball is in our court. He doesn't need to prove Himself for there is no higher authority. He doesn't need to do anything else for His grace is sufficient (2Corinthians 12:9-10); His character, established. The choices we make may be right, wrong, good or bad, but they are ours to make and we are responsible nonetheless.**
Though frequently subtle, there is a difference between reacting and choosing. Don't let the moment push you around; hit the brakes and throw some consciousness into it. But also, don't always wait around for something to happen before making a move. Use your God-given freedom, man!
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* By hurt, I don't mean abusive.
** A few weeks ago, I was browsing in the book store and picked up Changes That Heal by Henry Cloud. I read a random chapter out of it and the gist of the takeaway is this: (1) boundaries shape a person, and (2) we are responsible for our own actions, emotions, and attitudes. The author illustrates with The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16).
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(1) God granting a gift or a straight path,
and then me responding with a thanks
(however sincere it may be), or
(2) me not receiving anything brand new,
being satisfied with what Jesus has already done,
and then me responding with everything that I have
(however little it may be)?
In how the question is framed, the favored answer is pretty clear. The point, however, is that maybe God doesn't act (outwardly and obvious at least) as much as we'd like Him to because He's already given us the free will to make choices that are, by definition, not dictated by divine automation or personal circumstance.
Free will to hold on because of hope, let go because of Trust,
hate because it's easy, love even if it hurts*.
Free will to endure, persevere... be teachable.
Free will to be miserable.
Free will to be happy.
Free will to boldly look like a fool or project an untouchable façade.
Free will to speak out, remain silent, whine, complain, shut up, just do it.
Free will to be gentle.
Free will to be disobedient, have my own way.
Free will to do any verb under the sun.
Free will to give action-based thanks.
Free will to give Character-based glory.
Man, we have a lot of freedom!
God has already made His Move--the only thing that matters--and now the ball is in our court. He doesn't need to prove Himself for there is no higher authority. He doesn't need to do anything else for His grace is sufficient (2Corinthians 12:9-10); His character, established. The choices we make may be right, wrong, good or bad, but they are ours to make and we are responsible nonetheless.**
Though frequently subtle, there is a difference between reacting and choosing. Don't let the moment push you around; hit the brakes and throw some consciousness into it. But also, don't always wait around for something to happen before making a move. Use your God-given freedom, man!
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* By hurt, I don't mean abusive.
** A few weeks ago, I was browsing in the book store and picked up Changes That Heal by Henry Cloud. I read a random chapter out of it and the gist of the takeaway is this: (1) boundaries shape a person, and (2) we are responsible for our own actions, emotions, and attitudes. The author illustrates with The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16).
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Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Dear Family,
I have something real important that I need to share, something that I desperately plead for you to hear. You may readily dismiss this as something of actual urgency, or even worse, believe that it is foolishness and none of your concern altogether. But I tell you, it weighs heavily on my soul; I am grieved and terrified over how you might respond. There is a terribly reality that exists for millions upon millions of people, a dreadful thing that I do not wish upon any person let alone those I love. And that is why I write to you now--with urgency--and despite potential rejection and ridicule.
For virtually everyone who lives in America, the name of Jesus is well-known, though the reality is that many do not know the person of Jesus of the Bible. The majority of American church-goers, in particular, would probably shut off right about now, but please... don't. It is the most important message you will ever hear. It is the only thing that matters.
Do not be deceived: heaven is not the default destination, and merely going to church (no matter how frequent) does not generate salvation.**
Hell is real... Hell is forever... and after ten billion trillion years, those in hell will scream saying, "I WANT TO DIE! I WANT TO DIE!" That's all. Not even for a drop of water. They just want to die. And the answer comes again and again and again: "You shall never die, you will never die." That is the fate of multiplied billions on planet Earth. [K.P. Yohannan]
Stay with me, please. And if your experience with God ends within the walls of a church building, then first forget what you think you know before reading the rest of this message.
This is the reality about humanity. We are each born with an evil, God-hating heart. Genesis 8:21 says that every inclination of man's heart is evil from childhood... we are slaves to sin... we can't even see Christ because of the depth of our spiritual blindness. The Bible describes us as enemies of God and objects of His wrath. We are spiritually dead and eternally separated from God... no man who is a slave can set Himself free, no woman who is blind can give herself sight, no one who is an object of wrath can appease that wrath, and no person who is dead can cause himself to come to life. We can't manufacture salvation... we can't produce it. We can't even initiate it. God has to open our eyes, set us free, overcome our evil, and appease His wrath. He has to come to us. [David Platt in Radical]
Keep in mind that no matter how moral we believe ourselves to be, that so-called goodness doesn't even come close to registering before Holy God.
Why was [Jesus] trembling in the garden, weeping and full of anguish? We can rest assured that He was not a coward about to face Roman soldiers. Instead He was a Savior about to endure divine wrath. Listen to His words: "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me." The "cup" is not a reference to a wooden cross; it is a reference to divine judgment. It is the cup of God's wrath. This is what Jesus is recoiling from in the garden. All God's holy wrath and hatred toward sin and sinners, stored up since the beginning of the world, is about to be poured out on Him, and He is sweating blood at the thought of it.
What happened at the Cross was not primarily about nails being thrust into Jesus' hands and feet but about the wrath due your sin and my sin being thrust upon His soul. In that holy moment, all the righteous wrath and justice of God due us came rushing down like a torrent on Christ Himself.
One preacher described it as if you and I were standing a short hundred yards away from a dam of water ten thousand miles high and ten thousand miles wide. All of a sudden that dam was breached, and a torrential flood of water came crashing toward us. Right before it reached our feet, the ground in front of us opened up and swallowed it all. At the Cross, Christ drank the full cup of the wrath of God, and when He had downed the last drop, He turned the cup over and cried out, "It is finished." This is the Gospel.
We have taken the infinitely glorious Son of God, who endured the infinitely terrible wrath of God and who now reigns as the infinitely worthy LORD of all, and we have reduced Him to a poor, puny Savior who is just begging for us to accept Him. Accept Him? Do we really think Jesus needs our acceptance? Don't we need Him? [David Platt in Radical]
So, I plead with you: do not harden your hearts, let yourself be shaken, seek God, and pray for faith; don't simply go through the motions, pray for a relationship with Jesus... just as I pray for you, all the time.
Love,
J
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** Matthew 7:21-23
"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'
For virtually everyone who lives in America, the name of Jesus is well-known, though the reality is that many do not know the person of Jesus of the Bible. The majority of American church-goers, in particular, would probably shut off right about now, but please... don't. It is the most important message you will ever hear. It is the only thing that matters.
Do not be deceived: heaven is not the default destination, and merely going to church (no matter how frequent) does not generate salvation.**
Hell is real... Hell is forever... and after ten billion trillion years, those in hell will scream saying, "I WANT TO DIE! I WANT TO DIE!" That's all. Not even for a drop of water. They just want to die. And the answer comes again and again and again: "You shall never die, you will never die." That is the fate of multiplied billions on planet Earth. [K.P. Yohannan]
Stay with me, please. And if your experience with God ends within the walls of a church building, then first forget what you think you know before reading the rest of this message.
This is the reality about humanity. We are each born with an evil, God-hating heart. Genesis 8:21 says that every inclination of man's heart is evil from childhood... we are slaves to sin... we can't even see Christ because of the depth of our spiritual blindness. The Bible describes us as enemies of God and objects of His wrath. We are spiritually dead and eternally separated from God... no man who is a slave can set Himself free, no woman who is blind can give herself sight, no one who is an object of wrath can appease that wrath, and no person who is dead can cause himself to come to life. We can't manufacture salvation... we can't produce it. We can't even initiate it. God has to open our eyes, set us free, overcome our evil, and appease His wrath. He has to come to us. [David Platt in Radical]
Keep in mind that no matter how moral we believe ourselves to be, that so-called goodness doesn't even come close to registering before Holy God.
Why was [Jesus] trembling in the garden, weeping and full of anguish? We can rest assured that He was not a coward about to face Roman soldiers. Instead He was a Savior about to endure divine wrath. Listen to His words: "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me." The "cup" is not a reference to a wooden cross; it is a reference to divine judgment. It is the cup of God's wrath. This is what Jesus is recoiling from in the garden. All God's holy wrath and hatred toward sin and sinners, stored up since the beginning of the world, is about to be poured out on Him, and He is sweating blood at the thought of it.
What happened at the Cross was not primarily about nails being thrust into Jesus' hands and feet but about the wrath due your sin and my sin being thrust upon His soul. In that holy moment, all the righteous wrath and justice of God due us came rushing down like a torrent on Christ Himself.
One preacher described it as if you and I were standing a short hundred yards away from a dam of water ten thousand miles high and ten thousand miles wide. All of a sudden that dam was breached, and a torrential flood of water came crashing toward us. Right before it reached our feet, the ground in front of us opened up and swallowed it all. At the Cross, Christ drank the full cup of the wrath of God, and when He had downed the last drop, He turned the cup over and cried out, "It is finished." This is the Gospel.
We have taken the infinitely glorious Son of God, who endured the infinitely terrible wrath of God and who now reigns as the infinitely worthy LORD of all, and we have reduced Him to a poor, puny Savior who is just begging for us to accept Him. Accept Him? Do we really think Jesus needs our acceptance? Don't we need Him? [David Platt in Radical]
So, I plead with you: do not harden your hearts, let yourself be shaken, seek God, and pray for faith; don't simply go through the motions, pray for a relationship with Jesus... just as I pray for you, all the time.
Love,
J
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** Matthew 7:21-23
"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Divine Was His Name
This past weekend, the church youth group spent some time serving in the city. A guest speaker closely associated with Mexico Caravan Ministries in Tijuana was brought in to share his experiences and encouragement, but most importantly, Truth. Some may have thought his words too heavy, his brand of faith too extreme, but like the guy said, he was just reading pages off a Book. One of those readings was Matthew 25 v. 31-46:
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Though the speaker brought it heavy (which is how I like it), my retrospection here is light and brief. On the subway en route to the World Vision Storehouse, I stood a few moments next to a (presumably) homeless gentleman seated with an army green napsack over his lap. He was black with curly gray hair, perhaps in his sixties; his eyes hidden behind a pair of broad shades in a manner that indicated some kind of visual impairment.
We shoot the breeze; he's friendly and I ask about the places he's been to, nothing extraordinary. But when we both exit at the next stop, I subtly sense something beyond ordinary. I look up at the exit stairway and see the back of the man as he ascends and disappears seemingly rather quickly. Divine was his name... the passage above comes to mind and, with a smile, I imagine the Possibility.
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"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.'
"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?'
"He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'
"Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life."Though the speaker brought it heavy (which is how I like it), my retrospection here is light and brief. On the subway en route to the World Vision Storehouse, I stood a few moments next to a (presumably) homeless gentleman seated with an army green napsack over his lap. He was black with curly gray hair, perhaps in his sixties; his eyes hidden behind a pair of broad shades in a manner that indicated some kind of visual impairment.
We shoot the breeze; he's friendly and I ask about the places he's been to, nothing extraordinary. But when we both exit at the next stop, I subtly sense something beyond ordinary. I look up at the exit stairway and see the back of the man as he ascends and disappears seemingly rather quickly. Divine was his name... the passage above comes to mind and, with a smile, I imagine the Possibility.
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Monday, October 11, 2010
How You Look At Things
Take a snapshot of the observable known universe, and our galaxy appears to be only a tiny white speck. Even within our own galaxy, our star is but a speck within a speck--dust, unidentifiable to the naked eye. Now, zoom onto you or me. Each of us is made up between 10 to 100 Trillion cells, and each cell exists as a world in itself. With this perspective, I see how everything God makes is, in fact, beautiful (and perceived as dull only when my processor fails to register the truth). C. S. Lewis put it this way in The Weight of Glory:
It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.
How far we've fallen to come to this: to thinking that anything God has made, particularly the people he's shaped and formed, could be counted as dismissible, uninteresting, unworthy, or something worse. On the flipside, how far each of us has fallen that we probably, at most times, deserve to be viewed as something worse for the things we do or don't do, or for what we allow to go on around us, or for simply not acknowledging the Things we should. From this, no one is excluded; we all fall short.
The point of all this? How beautiful Creation is. How far it has fallen. How far God has descended to redeem us all. How great is His love. He is worthy of all praise.
Each day, I wake up. With air in my lungs. Through each night as I sleep (demonstrating all the more that it is through no power of my own), my heart beats. I have control over my fingers, hands, and feet to run, jump, and dance and experience Creation as I please (indeed I am grateful). I have eyes that perceive better than any camera all the beauty that is around me. And despite all the brokenness in this world, God is all the more worthy to be praised because through hope--through Christ--brokenness isn't where it all ends. Beyond life, He gives Life. Before I had it, I didn't know what Life was, let alone know that I was missing it (dead men don't know they're dead).
Very real to me is the distinct peace I've been given, in deep contrast to the darkness that was once my mind. Very real to me is freedom from the shame I no longer bear, as well as liberation from addiction. And now, even in affliction, I see His goodness in refining me for His glory.
Beyond church walls, comfort zones, and social barriers, God is worthy of all worship. In case you don't see this truth in your own life, it doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. (Similarly, just because one doesn't understand an answer to a question doesn't mean that the answer is wrong.) As a starting point, simply change how you look at things.
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It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.
How far we've fallen to come to this: to thinking that anything God has made, particularly the people he's shaped and formed, could be counted as dismissible, uninteresting, unworthy, or something worse. On the flipside, how far each of us has fallen that we probably, at most times, deserve to be viewed as something worse for the things we do or don't do, or for what we allow to go on around us, or for simply not acknowledging the Things we should. From this, no one is excluded; we all fall short.
The point of all this? How beautiful Creation is. How far it has fallen. How far God has descended to redeem us all. How great is His love. He is worthy of all praise.
Each day, I wake up. With air in my lungs. Through each night as I sleep (demonstrating all the more that it is through no power of my own), my heart beats. I have control over my fingers, hands, and feet to run, jump, and dance and experience Creation as I please (indeed I am grateful). I have eyes that perceive better than any camera all the beauty that is around me. And despite all the brokenness in this world, God is all the more worthy to be praised because through hope--through Christ--brokenness isn't where it all ends. Beyond life, He gives Life. Before I had it, I didn't know what Life was, let alone know that I was missing it (dead men don't know they're dead).
Very real to me is the distinct peace I've been given, in deep contrast to the darkness that was once my mind. Very real to me is freedom from the shame I no longer bear, as well as liberation from addiction. And now, even in affliction, I see His goodness in refining me for His glory.
Beyond church walls, comfort zones, and social barriers, God is worthy of all worship. In case you don't see this truth in your own life, it doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. (Similarly, just because one doesn't understand an answer to a question doesn't mean that the answer is wrong.) As a starting point, simply change how you look at things.
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Saturday, October 9, 2010
Travel Notes
"Enjoy Ecuador...but more importantly, enjoy God's presence!" -JL
"Enjoy the heck out of yourself!" -MK
[Sep 17] As the plane ascends and I look out the window, the world shrinks before my eyes and I can't help but imagine that I am in some way seeing what God sees. On ground level, our lives seem so big to us, our plans so important. But look out His window, and we look like tiny little ants running around. It makes God's descent to reach man all the more perplexing... His love all the more crazy. Thank You, LORD, for loving us tiny little ants.
I land in a foreign country not knowing the language nor a single person to call friend. It's late at night and my hostel is more than a mere hike away. Hyper-awareness kicks into gear. Having no functioning phone in hand further fuels the running of the movie Taken in the back of my mind. So, I pray about it. A few moments later, I'm splitting a taxi with an easygoing young couple from Hoboken, NJ.
My business card and personality both say "Controller," but I'm learning how to unwind, and upon arrival at my hostel, I get to practice. After settling into my $13 spot in one of the ten-bed rooms and knocking off a late dinner comprised of a Clif Bar and airplane baby carrots, I scope out the commune, camera-ready as always. With balconies that overlook the seaway (and the city lights beyond it), rustic hallways full of peculiar artwork, a vibrant partially open-air bar next door, and an organic mix of foreigners and locals to fill them all, I find myself not feeling so alone anymore. In fact, I'm beginning to like this freedom in the unknown. After getting my fill of photos, I grab some water and a Panamanian beer from the bar and take a few moments in the warm, night breeze to appreciate God's presence and the gift of this experience. In this eclectic concoction of people, art, and beverages, vacation has indeed begun.
[Sep 18] Early in the morning, I wake up to this
sweet view and turn to an even
sweeter message from my Creator.
I take a walk through Casco Viejo before checking out of the hostel, at which point I gratefully score a free ride back to the airport. (After capping off a ten-day surfing run on the Panamanian waves, Jordan, Justin, and Wes are flying back to Cali. And, fortunately for me, their fourth man took an earlier flight home, which left a seat open in their rented jeep. I like those guys.)
Finally, I arrive at my destination. As Santiago picks me up from the airport, the greetings aren't grand and we immediately head off for some food. We're guys, after all (brothers, more importantly); we know how it is.
[Sep 19] The next morning, we are speeding through hills and highways to get to English Fellowship Church. No, we're not late. That's just how Santi drives. Inside the sanctuary, I feel not a stranger as memories from last year come to surface, as songs from L.I.F.T. are being sung, and as just about everyone speaks English (not to mention that there are lots of brown people, too). I find a smile come upon my face as the pastor gives an exhortation to pray the songs from the heart rather than just sing them from our lips. In the middle of the service, street kids in the discipleship program, reflecting in appearance the place from which they come, are presented on stage. They break out in song Spanish lyrics to a reggae-rap tune in praise to the LORD. I manage to decipher only a handful of words, but I am amazed nonetheless. I imagine how God the Father sees them (as the pastor previously brought to mind) and see a smile on His face. Following the service, interestingly enough, they have Filipino food for a mini reception. And my takeaway from the message itself, a refresher on doing good works:
[Sep 20] I volunteer at the school: data-entry and then some painting. At night, Santi and I take off for Mindo. Though the speedy descent from 9350 feet down winding roads results in a buzzed-like sensation, and that it's somewhat of a dubious trek to find our hotel/hostel(?), the ride with my brother is a good time for sure.
[Sep 21] Ah, Mindo Gardens... in daylight. This place is gorgeous and Santi and I basically have it to ourselves; a shame that neither of us have our woman with us! But hey, this is a guy trip. We eat (a simple yet awesome breakfast) and then take care of business. We canopy (zip-line) on mountain tops and hike down rain forest valleys to cascadas. O the sights and experiences that exist beyond the cubicle! The ride on the gondola is... peaceful, refreshing; a sight to see as we're almost on even level as the mountain tops kissing the clouds. We return to the Gardens ready to devour. What a sweet meal it is. [My favorite was the super fresh papaya juice which I couldn't get enough of... which, at the time, I was unaware is a natural laxative... which now explains a lot.] At nightfall, we have solid convo as we drive back to Quito.
[Sep 22] Some manual labor. Some more painting. Tiring, but pleasing. At the end of the day, we have a nice dinner out and take it easy.
[Sep 23] No plans during the day, but later on, we find an outdoor rock gym downtown. The nicer bouldering section is restricted for a private group, so instead I attempt the man-made wall of stones. (Having no pads under you sure does make a difference.)
[Sep 24] For my birthday, it seems that God has blessed me to do volunteering through photography. I hang around with the three kindergarten classes and it's not long until I fall in love with them. And regardless of whether it pans out into something or not, the LORD gifted me with a chance encounter to potentially hook up with missions photography organization. That would be my dream job.
In the afternoon, Santi and I head off for the hot springs in the mountains of Papallacta. The drive itself, once out of the city, is just absolutely beautiful. And the springs weren't bad either! Along the way, we meet a guy who's driving from Canada to Argentina, and talk it up a bit. [I got on his mailing list and now get periodic emails and pictures of his travels.]
On our way home, we stop at a store to pick up some movies. As we get out of the car and take a few steps forward, we both pause as we each see from the corner of our eye, the car slowly drifting backwards! Fortunately, a stone structure prevents the car from running into the highway and there is no real damage to the car itself (which then makes it okay to laugh). Anyway, we pick up some movies (legal bootlegs of pristine quality at only $2 a pop!) and make our way back, where birthday pizza awaits with what has come to feel like family. After pizza, I'm surprised with a homemade birthday cake lit with one big candle. It sure feels like home.
Maybe the best gift of this day (really, this whole week in general) was the strength and confidence to stand alone. Through the words of my brother, various encounters with a multitude of people, and the unfailing presence of my loving God, I feel the life pumped back into me.
[Sep 25] My flight is pushed back 24 hours...
[Sep 26] Home. Habachi.
[In-Flight Notes] Perhaps the most humbling aspect of this trip wasn't in the miscellaneous odds & ends I was asked to do while volunteering at the school. Rather, through the few passages I managed to read from a random book dislodged from the mess that is the back seat of my car shortly before leaving for the trip: Voice of the Martyrs - Extreme Devotion. It seems to me that extreme is actually normal, and normal is really lukewarm. What a plank in my own eye. Help us, LORD.
Serving was actually a joy--tiring, but a joy nonetheless. I think pride in service can really only creep in when you think of what you do as "service." If you're doing whatever it is that you're doing for the LORD--like really for the LORD (e.g. with Him in mind, with joy)--then pride doesn't have a place to creep into.
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"Enjoy the heck out of yourself!" -MK
[Sep 17] As the plane ascends and I look out the window, the world shrinks before my eyes and I can't help but imagine that I am in some way seeing what God sees. On ground level, our lives seem so big to us, our plans so important. But look out His window, and we look like tiny little ants running around. It makes God's descent to reach man all the more perplexing... His love all the more crazy. Thank You, LORD, for loving us tiny little ants.I land in a foreign country not knowing the language nor a single person to call friend. It's late at night and my hostel is more than a mere hike away. Hyper-awareness kicks into gear. Having no functioning phone in hand further fuels the running of the movie Taken in the back of my mind. So, I pray about it. A few moments later, I'm splitting a taxi with an easygoing young couple from Hoboken, NJ.
My business card and personality both say "Controller," but I'm learning how to unwind, and upon arrival at my hostel, I get to practice. After settling into my $13 spot in one of the ten-bed rooms and knocking off a late dinner comprised of a Clif Bar and airplane baby carrots, I scope out the commune, camera-ready as always. With balconies that overlook the seaway (and the city lights beyond it), rustic hallways full of peculiar artwork, a vibrant partially open-air bar next door, and an organic mix of foreigners and locals to fill them all, I find myself not feeling so alone anymore. In fact, I'm beginning to like this freedom in the unknown. After getting my fill of photos, I grab some water and a Panamanian beer from the bar and take a few moments in the warm, night breeze to appreciate God's presence and the gift of this experience. In this eclectic concoction of people, art, and beverages, vacation has indeed begun.
[Sep 18] Early in the morning, I wake up to thissweet view and turn to an even
sweeter message from my Creator.
I take a walk through Casco Viejo before checking out of the hostel, at which point I gratefully score a free ride back to the airport. (After capping off a ten-day surfing run on the Panamanian waves, Jordan, Justin, and Wes are flying back to Cali. And, fortunately for me, their fourth man took an earlier flight home, which left a seat open in their rented jeep. I like those guys.)
Finally, I arrive at my destination. As Santiago picks me up from the airport, the greetings aren't grand and we immediately head off for some food. We're guys, after all (brothers, more importantly); we know how it is.
[Sep 19] The next morning, we are speeding through hills and highways to get to English Fellowship Church. No, we're not late. That's just how Santi drives. Inside the sanctuary, I feel not a stranger as memories from last year come to surface, as songs from L.I.F.T. are being sung, and as just about everyone speaks English (not to mention that there are lots of brown people, too). I find a smile come upon my face as the pastor gives an exhortation to pray the songs from the heart rather than just sing them from our lips. In the middle of the service, street kids in the discipleship program, reflecting in appearance the place from which they come, are presented on stage. They break out in song Spanish lyrics to a reggae-rap tune in praise to the LORD. I manage to decipher only a handful of words, but I am amazed nonetheless. I imagine how God the Father sees them (as the pastor previously brought to mind) and see a smile on His face. Following the service, interestingly enough, they have Filipino food for a mini reception. And my takeaway from the message itself, a refresher on doing good works:
You don't have to. But you'll want to.
You'll want to so much that you'll have to.
It'll be a different kind of "have to."
[Theologically, this is nothing new to me, but I needed to hear this in the time that I did, in the way that I did, in a way that would penetrate past my head and into my heart.] You'll want to so much that you'll have to.
It'll be a different kind of "have to."
[Sep 20] I volunteer at the school: data-entry and then some painting. At night, Santi and I take off for Mindo. Though the speedy descent from 9350 feet down winding roads results in a buzzed-like sensation, and that it's somewhat of a dubious trek to find our hotel/hostel(?), the ride with my brother is a good time for sure.
[Sep 21] Ah, Mindo Gardens... in daylight. This place is gorgeous and Santi and I basically have it to ourselves; a shame that neither of us have our woman with us! But hey, this is a guy trip. We eat (a simple yet awesome breakfast) and then take care of business. We canopy (zip-line) on mountain tops and hike down rain forest valleys to cascadas. O the sights and experiences that exist beyond the cubicle! The ride on the gondola is... peaceful, refreshing; a sight to see as we're almost on even level as the mountain tops kissing the clouds. We return to the Gardens ready to devour. What a sweet meal it is. [My favorite was the super fresh papaya juice which I couldn't get enough of... which, at the time, I was unaware is a natural laxative... which now explains a lot.] At nightfall, we have solid convo as we drive back to Quito. [Sep 22] Some manual labor. Some more painting. Tiring, but pleasing. At the end of the day, we have a nice dinner out and take it easy.
[Sep 23] No plans during the day, but later on, we find an outdoor rock gym downtown. The nicer bouldering section is restricted for a private group, so instead I attempt the man-made wall of stones. (Having no pads under you sure does make a difference.)
[Sep 24] For my birthday, it seems that God has blessed me to do volunteering through photography. I hang around with the three kindergarten classes and it's not long until I fall in love with them. And regardless of whether it pans out into something or not, the LORD gifted me with a chance encounter to potentially hook up with missions photography organization. That would be my dream job.
In the afternoon, Santi and I head off for the hot springs in the mountains of Papallacta. The drive itself, once out of the city, is just absolutely beautiful. And the springs weren't bad either! Along the way, we meet a guy who's driving from Canada to Argentina, and talk it up a bit. [I got on his mailing list and now get periodic emails and pictures of his travels.]
On our way home, we stop at a store to pick up some movies. As we get out of the car and take a few steps forward, we both pause as we each see from the corner of our eye, the car slowly drifting backwards! Fortunately, a stone structure prevents the car from running into the highway and there is no real damage to the car itself (which then makes it okay to laugh). Anyway, we pick up some movies (legal bootlegs of pristine quality at only $2 a pop!) and make our way back, where birthday pizza awaits with what has come to feel like family. After pizza, I'm surprised with a homemade birthday cake lit with one big candle. It sure feels like home.
Maybe the best gift of this day (really, this whole week in general) was the strength and confidence to stand alone. Through the words of my brother, various encounters with a multitude of people, and the unfailing presence of my loving God, I feel the life pumped back into me.
[Sep 25] My flight is pushed back 24 hours...
[Sep 26] Home. Habachi.
[In-Flight Notes] Perhaps the most humbling aspect of this trip wasn't in the miscellaneous odds & ends I was asked to do while volunteering at the school. Rather, through the few passages I managed to read from a random book dislodged from the mess that is the back seat of my car shortly before leaving for the trip: Voice of the Martyrs - Extreme Devotion. It seems to me that extreme is actually normal, and normal is really lukewarm. What a plank in my own eye. Help us, LORD.
Serving was actually a joy--tiring, but a joy nonetheless. I think pride in service can really only creep in when you think of what you do as "service." If you're doing whatever it is that you're doing for the LORD--like really for the LORD (e.g. with Him in mind, with joy)--then pride doesn't have a place to creep into.
_____________________________________________
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Fully Engaged
As is the case with me whenever I solicit others for advice on prayer, I can tell you that whatever works for me will (almost certainly) not be what works for you. Nevertheless, for me, I've realized that speaking with God, for the most part, looks like this: asking Him a question--or even just speaking--with my heart fully engaged* (and intentionally not censoring any potential gut checks that may occur along the way)... and then not necessarily waiting for a reply (e.g. thinking to myself), but rather running into a response, which (if it happens) happens almost immediately at (or just before) the last word I'm processing.
For example, I prayed just now, and what I believe I heard was, "Get back to work."
I love you, LORD! Amen.
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* sometimes great success, sometimes epic fail
For example, I prayed just now, and what I believe I heard was, "Get back to work."
I love you, LORD! Amen.
_____________________________________________
* sometimes great success, sometimes epic fail
Friday, September 17, 2010
Settle Not
His jealousy for His own glory and His love for His creation--His love for you and for me--go hand in hand. God is Love.
Life in Him is sought, and slowly (it seems) He is seen;
His voice is often subtle but His love is loud for sure.
So-called life in the world is blasted in your face,
marketed for consumption yet also consuming;
its cravings are carnal and its death, deceptive.
There is a kind of loudness in both love and lust. With love, I give up myself and the loudness comes in the form of finding something Better. With lust, the loudness is me, clear and obvious, but emptiness ensues as I find that there is nothing left to find.
Don't settle for instant, not even for just floating about. Hang tough another day, be vigilant in the moment, don't settle and we'll find something Better.
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Life in Him is sought, and slowly (it seems) He is seen;
His voice is often subtle but His love is loud for sure.
So-called life in the world is blasted in your face,
marketed for consumption yet also consuming;
its cravings are carnal and its death, deceptive.
There is a kind of loudness in both love and lust. With love, I give up myself and the loudness comes in the form of finding something Better. With lust, the loudness is me, clear and obvious, but emptiness ensues as I find that there is nothing left to find.
Don't settle for instant, not even for just floating about. Hang tough another day, be vigilant in the moment, don't settle and we'll find something Better.
_____________________________________________
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Excerpts
The shade of thoughts and emo that have filled the last few weeks have been too messy to verbalize, let alone wrap up into a neat hope-filled revelation. Maybe I'll elaborate later on when things get digested. Maybe I won't. For now, I leave you with a glimpse of what my mind has been resonating with:
Excerpts from "What's [Actually] On Your Mind?" by Shane Hipps
[Relevant Magazine, Sep/Oct 2010]
This inadvertently reinforces the narcissism of the digital age. [Social media] helps me believe even my most mundane thoughts are now somehow important and need to be shared. It begs me to step out of the stream of experience long enough to record it. The effect is that we are no longer present in any of our experiences. We are living as unpaid journalists who chronicle life as it passes by. This may seem insignificant. But our presence matters. Our brief but increasingly frequent moments of absence add up.
Wisdom is born of suffering, waiting, experience, wrestling, grieving and complexity-and these things take time.
Ignore your [social media] for a week and see what happens. What do you miss? What do you gain? Pay attention when you feel an impulse to check [social media] and ask yourself, what is this about? Am I bored? Restless? Lonely? Curious? Feeling disconnected? Needing a break from the monotony of existence? Then sit with the feeling. Let it arise without resisting it or retaining it. See what it might have to teach you. And check to see if there is something else beneath it. Often there is wisdom waiting to be born. But it means being patient.
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Excerpts from "Why We Need Unanswered Questions” by Cameron Conant
[Relevant Magazine, Aug 2010]
The answer requires a knowing that transcends textbooks or theology, a knowing that sees with the heart, a knowing that exists between two lovers or between a parent and a child, the sort of knowing that says, “Even if it’s not OK, it will be OK.”
_____________________________________________
America Through A Bug-Stained Windshield
[Jack's Mannequin Blog]
Sometimes a soul must wander to truly know it is home.
_____________________________________________
Excerpts from "What's [Actually] On Your Mind?" by Shane Hipps
[Relevant Magazine, Sep/Oct 2010]
This inadvertently reinforces the narcissism of the digital age. [Social media] helps me believe even my most mundane thoughts are now somehow important and need to be shared. It begs me to step out of the stream of experience long enough to record it. The effect is that we are no longer present in any of our experiences. We are living as unpaid journalists who chronicle life as it passes by. This may seem insignificant. But our presence matters. Our brief but increasingly frequent moments of absence add up.
Wisdom is born of suffering, waiting, experience, wrestling, grieving and complexity-and these things take time.
Ignore your [social media] for a week and see what happens. What do you miss? What do you gain? Pay attention when you feel an impulse to check [social media] and ask yourself, what is this about? Am I bored? Restless? Lonely? Curious? Feeling disconnected? Needing a break from the monotony of existence? Then sit with the feeling. Let it arise without resisting it or retaining it. See what it might have to teach you. And check to see if there is something else beneath it. Often there is wisdom waiting to be born. But it means being patient.
_____________________________________________
Excerpts from "Why We Need Unanswered Questions” by Cameron Conant
[Relevant Magazine, Aug 2010]
The answer requires a knowing that transcends textbooks or theology, a knowing that sees with the heart, a knowing that exists between two lovers or between a parent and a child, the sort of knowing that says, “Even if it’s not OK, it will be OK.”
_____________________________________________
America Through A Bug-Stained Windshield
[Jack's Mannequin Blog]
Sometimes a soul must wander to truly know it is home.
_____________________________________________
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Gift vs Exchange
There is no such thing as "it was all for nothing" when it comes to love. Not in real love. And it's only real when gifted, meaning given not at the expectation of generating a response (receiving some form of self-gratification in the future), nor for the sake of returning a "gift," (for having received some form of self-gratification in the past) which is really no gift at all, but rather payment. (Obviously, there is nothing wrong with receiving love and enjoying its benefits since it is the natural by-product of gifting, but only responding and never initiating calls for a gut check.*) "It was all for nothing" implies expectation. Expectation is not love, but (in this context) self-entitlement.
So when asked, "Why do you love that person?," a list of wonderful things about that special someone just doesn't cut it. The only answer that comes even close to acceptable is "Because I choose to." Even this response is flawed because we're only human (self-seeking and depraved at the core*), which means that something must be driving us to choose one way or another.
Love can only be True when the sustaining source is internal, not external. And on their own, I know that my internals aren't good enough (Psalm 16:2). But I do not end without hope (obvious to some, a reminder to many, available to all): God is love; we love because He first loved us (see 1 John 4:7-21).
* plank in the eye
_____________________________________________
So when asked, "Why do you love that person?," a list of wonderful things about that special someone just doesn't cut it. The only answer that comes even close to acceptable is "Because I choose to." Even this response is flawed because we're only human (self-seeking and depraved at the core*), which means that something must be driving us to choose one way or another.
Love can only be True when the sustaining source is internal, not external. And on their own, I know that my internals aren't good enough (Psalm 16:2). But I do not end without hope (obvious to some, a reminder to many, available to all): God is love; we love because He first loved us (see 1 John 4:7-21).
* plank in the eye
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Monday, August 9, 2010
Thanks, Ed.
Today is kind of a crappy day. But as I'm walking back to my cube from the cafeteria, the security guard, Ed (a big, bald Puerto Rican guy), calls out my name in a proud drawn out fashion. I nod and manage to crank out only half-a-smile in return, but when I think about it, this seemingly insignificant gesture has just made my day. Thanks, Ed.
(Curious to know the source of his consistently sanguine demeanor, I asked him one day awhile back. Ed's response: "Great sex." (He also followed with "great wife, great kids.") Ed's the man.)
Because it fits so well, I can't help but hijack a quote just highlighted by someone much more inspiring: Almost everything you do will seem insignificant, but it is important that you do it. (Mahatma Gandhi)
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(Curious to know the source of his consistently sanguine demeanor, I asked him one day awhile back. Ed's response: "Great sex." (He also followed with "great wife, great kids.") Ed's the man.)
Because it fits so well, I can't help but hijack a quote just highlighted by someone much more inspiring: Almost everything you do will seem insignificant, but it is important that you do it. (Mahatma Gandhi)
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Thursday, August 5, 2010
Love fiercely.
I had this girlfriend once: ferociously gorgeous, classically modest yet stunning to my soul. She's gregarious and loves people, super insightful, fearlessly creative and massively complex. She can be thick-headed at times, but is tender-hearted at her core. And though not perfect, she is perfect for me (hope I sustain).
On any given day, my insides can deal me fight or flight. I scream out my lungs or shut off my mind, harden my heart or just bawl out my eyes. Some days, though, I manage to endure. Despite this quasi-explicit circumstance ("The Suck"), I agree with this tier of affliction in my life. Jack's Mannequin acknowledges that "rain makes the flowers grow." Dashboard Confessional concedes, "I don't mind the rain if I meet my Maker clean... I'll meet my Maker clean." Scripture says this:
Isaiah 48
10 See, I have refined you, though not as silver;
I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.
11 For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this.
How can I let myself be defamed?
I will not yield my glory to another.
Daniel 11
35 Some of the wise will stumble, so that they may be refined,
purified and made spotless until the time of the end,
for it will still come at the appointed time.
Zechariah 13
8 "In the whole land," declares the LORD,
"two-thirds will be struck down and perish;
yet one-third will be left in it.
9 This third I will bring into the fire;
I will refine them like silver
and test them like gold.
They will call on my name
and I will answer them;
I will say, 'They are my people,'
and they will say, 'The LORD is our God.' "
Malachi 3
3 He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver;
He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.
Then the LORD will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness,
4 and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable
to the LORD, as in days gone by, as in former years.
There is something daringly beautiful about willfully dying in order to come alive (Luke 17:33). Paraphrasing C.S. Lewis from The Great Divorce: the greater the descent, the greater the glory thereafter. Only One has descended into the darkness no other could ever go, and He conquered what no one else could ever master.
Love is a choice not dictated by emotion. And in the pit of enduring is where love becomes fierce. Love like Jesus. Love fiercely.
In this moment, I'm... OK. Yeah... I think I am.
(I won't lie: being proactively expressive of what's going on in my introverted head is something I know she'd be proud of (now, I know why), and so it's one reason I write. Processing is good.)
_____________________________________________
On any given day, my insides can deal me fight or flight. I scream out my lungs or shut off my mind, harden my heart or just bawl out my eyes. Some days, though, I manage to endure. Despite this quasi-explicit circumstance ("The Suck"), I agree with this tier of affliction in my life. Jack's Mannequin acknowledges that "rain makes the flowers grow." Dashboard Confessional concedes, "I don't mind the rain if I meet my Maker clean... I'll meet my Maker clean." Scripture says this:
Isaiah 48
10 See, I have refined you, though not as silver;
I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.
11 For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this.
How can I let myself be defamed?
I will not yield my glory to another.
Daniel 11
35 Some of the wise will stumble, so that they may be refined,
purified and made spotless until the time of the end,
for it will still come at the appointed time.
Zechariah 13
8 "In the whole land," declares the LORD,
"two-thirds will be struck down and perish;
yet one-third will be left in it.
9 This third I will bring into the fire;
I will refine them like silver
and test them like gold.
They will call on my name
and I will answer them;
I will say, 'They are my people,'
and they will say, 'The LORD is our God.' "
Malachi 3
3 He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver;
He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.
Then the LORD will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness,
4 and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable
to the LORD, as in days gone by, as in former years.
There is something daringly beautiful about willfully dying in order to come alive (Luke 17:33). Paraphrasing C.S. Lewis from The Great Divorce: the greater the descent, the greater the glory thereafter. Only One has descended into the darkness no other could ever go, and He conquered what no one else could ever master.
Love is a choice not dictated by emotion. And in the pit of enduring is where love becomes fierce. Love like Jesus. Love fiercely.
In this moment, I'm... OK. Yeah... I think I am.
(I won't lie: being proactively expressive of what's going on in my introverted head is something I know she'd be proud of (now, I know why), and so it's one reason I write. Processing is good.)
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Tuesday, August 3, 2010
(Positively and Beautifully) Terrifyingly Splendorous
In His hands is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind (Job 12:10, 13-25) ... We are like windblown leaves, dry chaff (Job 13:25) ... He remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:14) ... No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived (1Cor 2:9) ... Would not His splendor terrify you? (Job 13:11)
All this time, whenever I've praised His greatness, it was done, for the most part, through the lens of His works personal to me or in the context of nature. Though indeed valid in themselves--more than that, beautiful and liberating--I managed in my mind (and still, naturally cannot help it (1Cor 2:9)) to box in God's... indescribable, immeasurable, incomprehensible... Awesomeness. What mere man (dust) could register His greatness and still be able to utter a word? His splendor isn't described as simply beautiful (tolerably perceivable), but terrifying (unendurable).
Thanks be to Jesus, for in Him and through faith in Him we may approach God with freedom and confidence (Eph 3:12)... yet, honestly, I sigh and hesitate to exclaim this bold statement... I think it's because it makes me prone (rather, I am prone) to sinking into license. It's the inverse relationship of reverence and approachability that I need to somehow reconcile.
Father, forgive me for all the innumerable ways I've failed to live up to Your standards. And thank You for......
Father, Lord Jesus, and Holy Spirit, You are one! And LORD, You came down from Heaven! As (positively and beautifully) terrifyingly splendorous as You are (unapproachable through our own merits), You love us that much that You came to save us! Whoa.....
LORD, thank You for the grace You gift, carrying us through all our failures as we come to You. Help us to grasp what we can of Your splendor and to respond appropriately with our lives and in prayer. Amen.
_____________________________________________
All this time, whenever I've praised His greatness, it was done, for the most part, through the lens of His works personal to me or in the context of nature. Though indeed valid in themselves--more than that, beautiful and liberating--I managed in my mind (and still, naturally cannot help it (1Cor 2:9)) to box in God's... indescribable, immeasurable, incomprehensible... Awesomeness. What mere man (dust) could register His greatness and still be able to utter a word? His splendor isn't described as simply beautiful (tolerably perceivable), but terrifying (unendurable).
Thanks be to Jesus, for in Him and through faith in Him we may approach God with freedom and confidence (Eph 3:12)... yet, honestly, I sigh and hesitate to exclaim this bold statement... I think it's because it makes me prone (rather, I am prone) to sinking into license. It's the inverse relationship of reverence and approachability that I need to somehow reconcile.
Father, forgive me for all the innumerable ways I've failed to live up to Your standards. And thank You for......
Father, Lord Jesus, and Holy Spirit, You are one! And LORD, You came down from Heaven! As (positively and beautifully) terrifyingly splendorous as You are (unapproachable through our own merits), You love us that much that You came to save us! Whoa.....
LORD, thank You for the grace You gift, carrying us through all our failures as we come to You. Help us to grasp what we can of Your splendor and to respond appropriately with our lives and in prayer. Amen.
_____________________________________________
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Rope that Always Catches
I love rock climbing (though not usually so hot on big wall, I'm starting to get pretty solid on them boulders) and I like analogies (sometimes), so I'm shooting this one out there. When I was first learning to top-rope, my housemate pointed out to me that at some point, in order to get comfortable on the rock, I just had to take a fall and trust that the rope will catch. (It's similar to weight-lifting in the sense that, without a spotter in some exercises, you don't increase in strength if, for safety's sake, you always stop just before pushing out that last would-be muscle-building pinnacle rep.)
For me, Jesus is the Rope that Always Catches, the Spotter who pushes me to the place where I would have definitely failed trying to get to on my own.
...with my God I can scale a wall.
[Psalm 18:29b]
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For me, Jesus is the Rope that Always Catches, the Spotter who pushes me to the place where I would have definitely failed trying to get to on my own.
...with my God I can scale a wall.
[Psalm 18:29b]
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Desert Land
Day in and day out, it's a grind. How do people do this for forty years? Not even four years in and I'm already burning out. I suppose the difference-maker is relationships. Boldly introverted and running with a solid support structure, I was doing pretty good for awhile. Now in this desert of a season, five o'clock hits and busy busy just switches to null and void.
People say you should love what you do. Scripture says the land was cursed after the fall of man (Gen 3:17-19). All things were created by God and for God (Col 1:16); man was made to love and man was made to work. I get that. The crux of the matter is making it count.
Easily ("easily"), I feel, can I go minimalist and serve people in a third-world country in exchange for daily necessity-driven closeness to God. (I know the times in my life that I was most joyful were with people in places that had less stuff.) But where I stand now (already having paid off debts A and B and living well below my means), I still have a massive financial abyss to climb out of. Oh how I wish I could just declare bankruptcy, forsaking my credit score (and my ability to take on new debts) and just live off the grid. But never do I fail to hear my Conscious say, "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's" (Mark 12:17).
A line from Relevant resounded with me the other week:
We’re getting theologically fat and spiritually bored with our safer versions of sunshine-pumping Christianity.*
My body has all that it needs in this area of affluence, but my soul... I'm dying out here.
Maybe this rich place is my desert land, my third-world country. Certainly, the needs look different, yet my spirit cries out to God all the same (and dangerously for my soul, it often does it unbeknownst to me). I've realized that, sometimes, it's harder to stay behind and send than to go. The world is not for me to save; I can only do my best to be faithful where God has placed me. He doesn't need me to accomplish His will, but obedience transforms me and serves others, perhaps with the former sometimes being His greater purpose. Nevertheless, obedience (even in the mundane) honors Him.
Despite my pre-mission-minded collegiate recklessness, I know that God can be glorified through my debt. And despite working corporate to pay off that debt, rarely seeing the difference I make and often feeling neutralized in my cubicle, I trust that whatever plan He has for me is good; all the days ordained for me were written in His book before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:16). Wait no longer to make it count, I pray, for where I am now is my battleground.
LORD, make today Count as defined by You. Amen.
_____________________________________________
*How Much Should We Risk? by Mike Barrett,
Relevant Magazine (06/23/2010)
People say you should love what you do. Scripture says the land was cursed after the fall of man (Gen 3:17-19). All things were created by God and for God (Col 1:16); man was made to love and man was made to work. I get that. The crux of the matter is making it count.
Easily ("easily"), I feel, can I go minimalist and serve people in a third-world country in exchange for daily necessity-driven closeness to God. (I know the times in my life that I was most joyful were with people in places that had less stuff.) But where I stand now (already having paid off debts A and B and living well below my means), I still have a massive financial abyss to climb out of. Oh how I wish I could just declare bankruptcy, forsaking my credit score (and my ability to take on new debts) and just live off the grid. But never do I fail to hear my Conscious say, "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's" (Mark 12:17).
A line from Relevant resounded with me the other week:
We’re getting theologically fat and spiritually bored with our safer versions of sunshine-pumping Christianity.*
My body has all that it needs in this area of affluence, but my soul... I'm dying out here.
Maybe this rich place is my desert land, my third-world country. Certainly, the needs look different, yet my spirit cries out to God all the same (and dangerously for my soul, it often does it unbeknownst to me). I've realized that, sometimes, it's harder to stay behind and send than to go. The world is not for me to save; I can only do my best to be faithful where God has placed me. He doesn't need me to accomplish His will, but obedience transforms me and serves others, perhaps with the former sometimes being His greater purpose. Nevertheless, obedience (even in the mundane) honors Him.
Despite my pre-mission-minded collegiate recklessness, I know that God can be glorified through my debt. And despite working corporate to pay off that debt, rarely seeing the difference I make and often feeling neutralized in my cubicle, I trust that whatever plan He has for me is good; all the days ordained for me were written in His book before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:16). Wait no longer to make it count, I pray, for where I am now is my battleground.
LORD, make today Count as defined by You. Amen.
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*How Much Should We Risk? by Mike Barrett,
Relevant Magazine (06/23/2010)
Monday, July 26, 2010
Heinous
Heinous. I like that word (its meaning, not so much). I like words that really pack a punch. How was your weekend? Say "fun" or even "exciting" and I'll respond with a "oh that's nice" and throw in a nod. Even though "devastating" sounds better than "bad," by no means would I rather have you experience the former over the latter. When something stands out as truly extraordinary (ever find that word kinda ironic?), people naturally tend to gravitate towards it.
Now, allow me to digress for a moment. I didn't grow up in the church (at least not at a place where I made my faith my own), went to a prestigious university which contributed to my inward arrogance, was part of a fraternity where I did some real stupid things, and made light--into games even--of things I'm now ashamed.
But shortly after college, God somehow landed me in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of winter, with nothing to turn to but Him. He gave me the grace to put my trust in Jesus, and everything's turned 180 since then (though obviously not without its kinks). Finding God later in life, one understandably slingshots in spiritual growth as there (usually) is more maturity to work with. And that's what I did. Much had been forgiven, so much love was shown (Luke 7:47).
Even though I'm in a good place now, I've still caught myself plenty enough times to fully know that apart from God, I have no good thing in me (Psalm 16:2). Yet pride leeches on and, honestly, it's hard to shake off, especially when you're not aware of it; in the back of my mind, I admit I'm not perfect, but also that I'm not that bad.
Now, back to the point. Today, at church, the pastor said something along these lines:
If you've been raped, how can that go unpunished with a loving God?
It doesn't; Jesus bore the punishment Himself.
I once had a real close friend who was assaulted, and I took on her pain (to whatever extent another person could) along with her. To me, rape is one of those traumas to which I would appropriately assign the description of heinous (actually, I really hate that word). The Cross sheds new meaning to me in this light.
Jesus bore the punishment Himself.
The wrath poured out on Him by God the Father wasn't only to the extent of what mounts to be adolescent blunders when compared to heinous rape or cold-blooded murderous sickness. No, the Father's wrath encompassed all and Jesus' incomprehensible love, translated into willful obedience, paid it all.
That is extraordinary.
__________________________________________________
Now, allow me to digress for a moment. I didn't grow up in the church (at least not at a place where I made my faith my own), went to a prestigious university which contributed to my inward arrogance, was part of a fraternity where I did some real stupid things, and made light--into games even--of things I'm now ashamed.
But shortly after college, God somehow landed me in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of winter, with nothing to turn to but Him. He gave me the grace to put my trust in Jesus, and everything's turned 180 since then (though obviously not without its kinks). Finding God later in life, one understandably slingshots in spiritual growth as there (usually) is more maturity to work with. And that's what I did. Much had been forgiven, so much love was shown (Luke 7:47).
Even though I'm in a good place now, I've still caught myself plenty enough times to fully know that apart from God, I have no good thing in me (Psalm 16:2). Yet pride leeches on and, honestly, it's hard to shake off, especially when you're not aware of it; in the back of my mind, I admit I'm not perfect, but also that I'm not that bad.
Now, back to the point. Today, at church, the pastor said something along these lines:
If you've been raped, how can that go unpunished with a loving God?
It doesn't; Jesus bore the punishment Himself.
I once had a real close friend who was assaulted, and I took on her pain (to whatever extent another person could) along with her. To me, rape is one of those traumas to which I would appropriately assign the description of heinous (actually, I really hate that word). The Cross sheds new meaning to me in this light.
Jesus bore the punishment Himself.
The wrath poured out on Him by God the Father wasn't only to the extent of what mounts to be adolescent blunders when compared to heinous rape or cold-blooded murderous sickness. No, the Father's wrath encompassed all and Jesus' incomprehensible love, translated into willful obedience, paid it all.
That is extraordinary.
__________________________________________________
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