Just Sometimes

Just sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is keep your mouth shut...

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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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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!'

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.

"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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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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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:

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.]

[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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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