I tried driving the speed limit for a while there when I got back from LA. Trendy, I know. But seriously, I'm really sick and tired of living a crazy, busy, American-paced life, so I figured I'd start with something easy - driving the speed limit. And it was ridiculous.
You don't realize how incredibly slow 55 mph is on a two-lane highway until you try to obey it. And you don't realize how slow you're actually supposed to go in town until you become conscious of that.
However, when my focus changed from getting to my destination as fast as possible to simply arriving eventually, I became more aware of what I was passing. I became more conscious of the laws of the road, and I began to realize that I've obeyed the speed limit in the past a lot like I've obeyed God - close enough.
In his book Radical, David Platt talks a lot about the way the U.S. has misunderstood and even manipulated the gospel to fit our comforts, our culture and what we like. If the Bible is our speed limit - our law and rules of the road - we've decided that 5 or 10 over here or there isn't so bad.
I like a God who loves me but not always a holy God who pours out wrath on those who reject Him. I like a God who comforts me in hard times but not always a God who says hard times will come because I have chosen to follow Him. I like a God who is safe and easy to worship but not always a God who I may have less friends because of. I like Jesus' command to love my neighbor when my neighbor is easy to love. It's hard to obey another of His that says forgive, especially when I don't think a person necessarily deserves it. And so I pick and choose what parts of God I like and focus only on them.
But Platt warns against this very thing. "As a Christian, it would be a grave mistake to come to Jesus and say, 'Let me hear what you have to say, and then I’ll decide whether or not I like it,'" he writes. "If you approach Jesus this way, you will never truly hear what he has to say" (20).
This is so easy and so tempting though you know? I want to hear just the verses I can obey. Just the passages that are familiar. Just the God that I want to think of rather than the God that is. I pick and chose where God's commands don't really need to be obeyed or where a little tweak (like driving 5 over) isn't that big of a deal. That is, of course, until five becomes ten. And then maybe ten becomes 15. And then bending little things becomes an excuse to bend others, and pretty soon, I find myself with a comfortable gospel once again - one that has been bent to my comfort level rather than God's standards. One that I can obey. One that's easy to follow. One that makes me feel like I'm a good enough person. One that I've measured according to everyone else rather than the God who authored it.
It's a good thing God works in and through and inspite of me, though, on this road called life. The cross becomes greater in the midst of this, and the reality of who I am not starts to become pretty evident. God didn't ask me to pick and choose what parts of Him I like. God didn't ask me to tweak His commands to fit my opinions. And yet everything in me sways towards that.
So for now I'm going to keep attempting the speed limit. For now I'm going to try and focus on the journey rather than just arriving. For now I'm going to be the annoying one on Highway 30 attempting to actually stay at 55. And by the grace of God, I want to grow in my obedience to Who He actually is, not Who I've created Him to be through my opinions, my tweaked Gospel and my comfort levels.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
[greater things are still to be done in this city]
I'm in. I don't know what it means. I don't know when. I don't know where. I don't know anything, but I want to be a part of God's plan to take the gospel where it's never been heard before, and I was told this weekend that if I don't tell people it means I have a plan B, a second option in case this missions thing doesn't work out. No plan B though. I'm scratching my multiple ones out.
Six weeks ago I came out here more interested in helping bring social justice to the world, and I thought that would be enough. Yeah I wanted to share the gospel, but I figured I could do that through building schools, developing education programs, running after school programs, helping refugees and whatnot. I was broken of that pretty fast, though, and for the first time in my life, I want to go overseas for the purpose of spreading the gospel rather than trying to right every injustice.
William Wilberforce, the politician famous for helping abolish the British slave trade, once said, "Having heard all of this you may choose to look the other way, but you may never again say that you did not know." And in so many ways, I feel like that's the story of everything we've been learning and doing. I can't go home knowing all that we've learned and do nothing. Sure there are plenty of other ways to serve the Lord in comfortable places, but our speaker this past weekend really challenged us on a whole new level. "Bust through the fear. Bust through the excuses. Bust through the fog," he said. "It's not sin that will keep you from going overseas. It's distractions like 'this is good too. This is needed too.'"
But I want to be obedient to God's command to share the gospel with the world that has never even had a chance to hear. I was born in a place where there are churches on every corner and Bibles in almost every house, but God doesn't love me any more than the person who's born where those things aren't. And I find no contentment or peace in understanding that and doing nothing about it.
The cross has been magnified this summer like never before, and I'm continually broken by my increasing need for forgiveness, grace and mercy. Even though I don't have all the answers and am extremely unqualified to go, I want to be used anyway to spread the message of salvation, and I know God can only use willing hearts.
Philippians 3:12-14 says, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do - forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
And I the thing that always hits me is the word 'straining' that Paul uses. He doesn't have all the answers, and he's not perfect, yet he's pressing on with what he does have. Not speed walking. Not jogging. Straining. Running with his all in obedience to the gospel of Christ, and that's how I want to run this race called life. There are always plenty of good things to take up my time and my energy, and I know they're not bad things. But God has a more urgent need - to save a lost world from their sin - and I want to help spread the news of salvation that has been shared with me.
"Greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this city." [Chris Tomlin]
Six weeks ago I came out here more interested in helping bring social justice to the world, and I thought that would be enough. Yeah I wanted to share the gospel, but I figured I could do that through building schools, developing education programs, running after school programs, helping refugees and whatnot. I was broken of that pretty fast, though, and for the first time in my life, I want to go overseas for the purpose of spreading the gospel rather than trying to right every injustice.
William Wilberforce, the politician famous for helping abolish the British slave trade, once said, "Having heard all of this you may choose to look the other way, but you may never again say that you did not know." And in so many ways, I feel like that's the story of everything we've been learning and doing. I can't go home knowing all that we've learned and do nothing. Sure there are plenty of other ways to serve the Lord in comfortable places, but our speaker this past weekend really challenged us on a whole new level. "Bust through the fear. Bust through the excuses. Bust through the fog," he said. "It's not sin that will keep you from going overseas. It's distractions like 'this is good too. This is needed too.'"
But I want to be obedient to God's command to share the gospel with the world that has never even had a chance to hear. I was born in a place where there are churches on every corner and Bibles in almost every house, but God doesn't love me any more than the person who's born where those things aren't. And I find no contentment or peace in understanding that and doing nothing about it.
The cross has been magnified this summer like never before, and I'm continually broken by my increasing need for forgiveness, grace and mercy. Even though I don't have all the answers and am extremely unqualified to go, I want to be used anyway to spread the message of salvation, and I know God can only use willing hearts.
Philippians 3:12-14 says, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do - forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
And I the thing that always hits me is the word 'straining' that Paul uses. He doesn't have all the answers, and he's not perfect, yet he's pressing on with what he does have. Not speed walking. Not jogging. Straining. Running with his all in obedience to the gospel of Christ, and that's how I want to run this race called life. There are always plenty of good things to take up my time and my energy, and I know they're not bad things. But God has a more urgent need - to save a lost world from their sin - and I want to help spread the news of salvation that has been shared with me.
"Greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this city." [Chris Tomlin]
Thursday, July 15, 2010
[what do i know of holy?]
The things I'm learning out here don't fit into an email or a blog - hence I haven't written as much as I was planning. They can't be told in a quick five minute conversation,though, or even an hour-long coffee date. Every time I start to try and re-tell bits and pieces of what I've heard and done and learned it's absolutely impossible, but there's one thing I know for sure. My God is a big God. Sure we sang the song "Great Big God" in junior choir and VBS as a kid, but to sing it and to truly believe it in your heart are two different things. And if there's anything I am guilty of, it's putting God in boxes and limiting Him on what I think He can do.
However, the stories I've heard, the people I've talked to, the difficult and painful lessons I've learned through experience, the wisdom I've gained from others around me and the Scripture I've read and learned from out here have completely changed my view and understanding of the Maker of this universe. Because it's one thing to know a lot about God, yet it's another to obey what you know, and I know I've got a lot to work on in the obedience category.
Through all of the constant learning and growing and being stretched and humbled and challenged again and again, though, I have never felt such a desire to know God more. Maybe it's like running you know? It takes awhile to get your legs back in shape, but once you do it almost becomes addicting and you never want to stop. Ok maybe only I have that problem, but still, you get the point.
The song that continues to hit me in the midst of all this is "What do I know of Holy?" by Addison Road. I am humbled and convicted by the lyrics (see below), and my prayer is that God would continue to show me Who He is and how I can be a part of His plan. I feel like I'm going to leave this summer with more questions than I came with, but Luke 12:31 has been a constant peace on my heart and mind - "Seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."
So as I get down to the last two weeks out here, I realize I don't have the answers to all of life's questions. And I don't have a 50-year plan for post-college. And I don't know exactly how it all applies to my journey through life. But I do serve a God who does, and after watching my view of Him completely blow up this summer, I trust that His plan is a lot better than anything I can come up with.
[what do i know of holy? by Addison Road]
i've made You promises a thousand times
i've tried to hear from heaven, but i talk the whole time
i think i've made You too small
i've never feared You at all
if You touch my face would i know You?
looked into my eyes could i behold You?
but what do i know of You who spoke me in motion?
where have i even stood but the shore along Your ocean?
are you fire? are you fury? are you sacred? are you beautiful?
so what do i know - what do i know of holy?
i guess i thought that i had figured You out
i knew all the stories and i learned to talk about
how You were mighty to save
but those were only empty words on a page
then i caught a glimpse of who You might be
the slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees
what do i know of holy?
what do i know of wounds that will heal my shame
and a God who gave life its name?
what do i know of holy?
of the One who the angels craved
all creation knows Your name
on earth and heaven above
what do i know of this love?
However, the stories I've heard, the people I've talked to, the difficult and painful lessons I've learned through experience, the wisdom I've gained from others around me and the Scripture I've read and learned from out here have completely changed my view and understanding of the Maker of this universe. Because it's one thing to know a lot about God, yet it's another to obey what you know, and I know I've got a lot to work on in the obedience category.
Through all of the constant learning and growing and being stretched and humbled and challenged again and again, though, I have never felt such a desire to know God more. Maybe it's like running you know? It takes awhile to get your legs back in shape, but once you do it almost becomes addicting and you never want to stop. Ok maybe only I have that problem, but still, you get the point.
The song that continues to hit me in the midst of all this is "What do I know of Holy?" by Addison Road. I am humbled and convicted by the lyrics (see below), and my prayer is that God would continue to show me Who He is and how I can be a part of His plan. I feel like I'm going to leave this summer with more questions than I came with, but Luke 12:31 has been a constant peace on my heart and mind - "Seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."
So as I get down to the last two weeks out here, I realize I don't have the answers to all of life's questions. And I don't have a 50-year plan for post-college. And I don't know exactly how it all applies to my journey through life. But I do serve a God who does, and after watching my view of Him completely blow up this summer, I trust that His plan is a lot better than anything I can come up with.
[what do i know of holy? by Addison Road]
i've made You promises a thousand times
i've tried to hear from heaven, but i talk the whole time
i think i've made You too small
i've never feared You at all
if You touch my face would i know You?
looked into my eyes could i behold You?
but what do i know of You who spoke me in motion?
where have i even stood but the shore along Your ocean?
are you fire? are you fury? are you sacred? are you beautiful?
so what do i know - what do i know of holy?
i guess i thought that i had figured You out
i knew all the stories and i learned to talk about
how You were mighty to save
but those were only empty words on a page
then i caught a glimpse of who You might be
the slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees
what do i know of holy?
what do i know of wounds that will heal my shame
and a God who gave life its name?
what do i know of holy?
of the One who the angels craved
all creation knows Your name
on earth and heaven above
what do i know of this love?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
[is it worth it?]
Today I ate lunch with a missionary. We've had the opportunity to do it all week, and this guy spent eight years in Kazakhstan (had to look up the spelling on that one) and many years serving in all kinds of humanitarian aid throughout many countries. But as he told us the story of how he first got interested and then involved in missions, the amount of his knowledge and insight isn't what got me.
It was the fact that he came back to the U.S. for a conference, ended up getting an MRI done for a vision problem, was diagnosed with a brain tumor and rushed into emergency surgery, was given a few months to live, was started on chemotherapy, and then he went back. He went back with a clock ticking away the supposed last days and months of his life. He went back to continue establishing a group of believers and church. He went back while administering chemo to himself. He went back almost dying in the process, yet he went back to Kazakhstan compelled. Compelled to finish what had been started because the gospel of Jesus was worth it. And the best news? The church there is growing on it's own now, and the missionary is currently tumor-free.
Man. There are times when I've wondered if the gospel was worth stepping out of my comfort zone to witness. Or saying no to a night at the college bars. Or choosing God over a serious relationship. But to have a brain tumor, to have a gut instinct that the doctors are giving you less than a year to live and yet still go back to the people you have grown to love because sharing the news of Jesus' love is worth it? That's a whole new challenge that I don't know if I have the guts or faith to answer to. I'd like to yes, but I can't stop putting myself in that position and wondering how I'd react and whether or not God would be glorified in it.
Paul writes in Romans 8:18, "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." And my sufferings are pretty small in comparison to the ones that many here have taken-on for the sake of Jesus Christ and His love. That's powerful. That's humbling. That's the kind of follower I want to be someday, and I know I can't get there on my own.
But when God's Word comes alive in our hearts. When God's grace compels us to say yes to things we don't even understand at the time. When God's love completely fills and sustains us - that's when we truly become compelled to share the good news of Jesus Christ. It will never happen full heartedly if we simply feel obligated to respond in obedience to the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20). When the gospel of God consumes you, you realize it's worth it, and I'm just starting to get a taste of what that's like.
It was the fact that he came back to the U.S. for a conference, ended up getting an MRI done for a vision problem, was diagnosed with a brain tumor and rushed into emergency surgery, was given a few months to live, was started on chemotherapy, and then he went back. He went back with a clock ticking away the supposed last days and months of his life. He went back to continue establishing a group of believers and church. He went back while administering chemo to himself. He went back almost dying in the process, yet he went back to Kazakhstan compelled. Compelled to finish what had been started because the gospel of Jesus was worth it. And the best news? The church there is growing on it's own now, and the missionary is currently tumor-free.
Man. There are times when I've wondered if the gospel was worth stepping out of my comfort zone to witness. Or saying no to a night at the college bars. Or choosing God over a serious relationship. But to have a brain tumor, to have a gut instinct that the doctors are giving you less than a year to live and yet still go back to the people you have grown to love because sharing the news of Jesus' love is worth it? That's a whole new challenge that I don't know if I have the guts or faith to answer to. I'd like to yes, but I can't stop putting myself in that position and wondering how I'd react and whether or not God would be glorified in it.
Paul writes in Romans 8:18, "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." And my sufferings are pretty small in comparison to the ones that many here have taken-on for the sake of Jesus Christ and His love. That's powerful. That's humbling. That's the kind of follower I want to be someday, and I know I can't get there on my own.
But when God's Word comes alive in our hearts. When God's grace compels us to say yes to things we don't even understand at the time. When God's love completely fills and sustains us - that's when we truly become compelled to share the good news of Jesus Christ. It will never happen full heartedly if we simply feel obligated to respond in obedience to the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20). When the gospel of God consumes you, you realize it's worth it, and I'm just starting to get a taste of what that's like.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
[why are we bored?]
Today our speaker said boredom is one of the biggest problems with Christians today. We know the basic take-home lessons from the same old stories. We're tired of hearing the same sermons over and over again. We're sick of routine Sundays, routine Bible studies, routine motions of prayer and giving and serving as a Sunday School teacher or board member or volunteer since no one else will.
How do we get the beauty and spark and joy of knowing God back though? I mean, out here I feel like I'm in a spiritual greenhouse. I'm surrounded by people who are passionate about the simple power of the gospel. Excited to grow. Eager to understand God's purpose for their life. Desiring to meet struggles with boldness and willing to live by the standards of the Bible rather than their own ideas of what is right and wrong. For a long time I thought that last thing sounded so restraining too. I've always been a "good" person, but to fully live according to God's desires rather than coming up with my own ideas seemed constraining and suffocating and un.at.trac.tive.
Oh man have I been humbled by the Spirit though. I like to see the Word of God as a refridgerator a lot of times - decide what I'm hungry for and take only what I like. No thanks mayonaise. Yes please chocolate milk. But out here there are so many people who don't choose which books and chapters and verses of the Bible they like and which they don't. They don't just pick out the things that are easy to obey. They go back to it for everything, and they strive to live as God intended us all to, always messing up but also moving forward in His grace.
And the Word seems to be sweeter in the midst of it all. You realize how little you really do know. You see the goodness of God daily. Your mind is opened to bigger and greater things, and it makes you hungry to learn more. It makes you wish you were staying here forever. It makes you want to just keep learning and growing and reaching out to the people of LA.
Instead, however, my question is how to bring this passion for God, this desire to grow, this hunger for more than apathetic boredom back to my home, my friend circles, my church and the international ministry I'm a part of. How do we keep the zeal thriving? How do ignite the fire and power of the gospel in our homes, our communities, our friend circles, our churches and our nation again when it seems that has gone elsewhere in the world?
The average Christian today isn't a white, English speaking, middle-aged man. The average Christian today is non-wealthy, non-white and non-Western. It's a black, African female aged 28, and yet it's easy to forget that people other than European descendents worship the same Jesus. That other countries outside the West send missionaries, even to us. That God's gospel is moving rapidly throughout the world, and that the church is alive and growing in some really cool ways that don't always take the same shape or form of the traditional, Midwestern Lutheran church I grew up in.
Now how do we keep it alive as well in the very places that planted the first seeds of faith in us? How do we keep ourselves reminded that we're never done growing? How do we gain a new thirst for God's Word and realize it is extremely relevant and true and essential to our very lives? How do we get a bigger vision and heart for God's glory beyond our own struggles and questions and doubts? Those are my questions, and I'm guessing if I asked anyone else here they'd say go back to the Word and ask God. A few years ago I would have thought that was nice advice and then thrown it away in exchange for my own idears. But today I think I'll take it. Our Jewish speaker last night said that boys back in the day had to memorize the Torah - the first five books of the Old Testament - by age 10. Well I'm twice that age and then some, so thank goodness I just have to pray for desire and wisdom to read it!
How do we get the beauty and spark and joy of knowing God back though? I mean, out here I feel like I'm in a spiritual greenhouse. I'm surrounded by people who are passionate about the simple power of the gospel. Excited to grow. Eager to understand God's purpose for their life. Desiring to meet struggles with boldness and willing to live by the standards of the Bible rather than their own ideas of what is right and wrong. For a long time I thought that last thing sounded so restraining too. I've always been a "good" person, but to fully live according to God's desires rather than coming up with my own ideas seemed constraining and suffocating and un.at.trac.tive.
Oh man have I been humbled by the Spirit though. I like to see the Word of God as a refridgerator a lot of times - decide what I'm hungry for and take only what I like. No thanks mayonaise. Yes please chocolate milk. But out here there are so many people who don't choose which books and chapters and verses of the Bible they like and which they don't. They don't just pick out the things that are easy to obey. They go back to it for everything, and they strive to live as God intended us all to, always messing up but also moving forward in His grace.
And the Word seems to be sweeter in the midst of it all. You realize how little you really do know. You see the goodness of God daily. Your mind is opened to bigger and greater things, and it makes you hungry to learn more. It makes you wish you were staying here forever. It makes you want to just keep learning and growing and reaching out to the people of LA.
Instead, however, my question is how to bring this passion for God, this desire to grow, this hunger for more than apathetic boredom back to my home, my friend circles, my church and the international ministry I'm a part of. How do we keep the zeal thriving? How do ignite the fire and power of the gospel in our homes, our communities, our friend circles, our churches and our nation again when it seems that has gone elsewhere in the world?
The average Christian today isn't a white, English speaking, middle-aged man. The average Christian today is non-wealthy, non-white and non-Western. It's a black, African female aged 28, and yet it's easy to forget that people other than European descendents worship the same Jesus. That other countries outside the West send missionaries, even to us. That God's gospel is moving rapidly throughout the world, and that the church is alive and growing in some really cool ways that don't always take the same shape or form of the traditional, Midwestern Lutheran church I grew up in.
Now how do we keep it alive as well in the very places that planted the first seeds of faith in us? How do we keep ourselves reminded that we're never done growing? How do we gain a new thirst for God's Word and realize it is extremely relevant and true and essential to our very lives? How do we get a bigger vision and heart for God's glory beyond our own struggles and questions and doubts? Those are my questions, and I'm guessing if I asked anyone else here they'd say go back to the Word and ask God. A few years ago I would have thought that was nice advice and then thrown it away in exchange for my own idears. But today I think I'll take it. Our Jewish speaker last night said that boys back in the day had to memorize the Torah - the first five books of the Old Testament - by age 10. Well I'm twice that age and then some, so thank goodness I just have to pray for desire and wisdom to read it!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
['nuff said]
Three things I heard today that were convicting. Challenging. Inspiring:
"Jesus came to be the shepard of the whole world. Everyone matters. You will never look into the eyes of someone who doesn't. You will never look into the eyes of someone who is beyond the grace of God." [Justin Kron]
"Pray the Scriptures. Pray what God has said, and He cannot deny you. He can't change what He's already said." [my roommate Keisha :)]
"When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of?" [Romans 6:20-21]
'nuff said.
"Jesus came to be the shepard of the whole world. Everyone matters. You will never look into the eyes of someone who doesn't. You will never look into the eyes of someone who is beyond the grace of God." [Justin Kron]
"Pray the Scriptures. Pray what God has said, and He cannot deny you. He can't change what He's already said." [my roommate Keisha :)]
"When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of?" [Romans 6:20-21]
'nuff said.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
[learning grace all over again]
Two convictions today:
One is the following quote - "Giving what you've got is probably not enough in your mind, but God can make it. Keep on believing He will, and watch what God can do." Our speaker this morning was talking about Jesus turning five loaves of bread and two fish into enough food to feed a crowd of 5,000 (Mark 6:33-44), but it hit me in regards to my struggle yesterday. It's hard to understand why God lets so much hurt persist and know that I can't do much to help alleviate it, but today I was convicted in the Word and by that quote up above.
God knows there are hurts. God knows there are needs. And as a short-sighted human, it's easy to become overwhelmed and discouraged when we wonder why He's not meeting them. Soothing them. Changing them. So then we take it on ourselves to fix it. Change it. Alter it. Yet God never asked us to. He asked us to give what we have to help, and He'll make it enough for the purpose He's called us to. He fed the 5,000. He will end the suffering of this world. And I was not made to tell Him what He's not doing.
This leads me to conviction two - letting Him work rather than taking it on myself to try and solve. Tonights talk was about grace, and it was really humbling. God's free gift of salvation to all who call on Him as Lord is grace in it's purest and simplist form, and it's the foundation of what it means to follow Him. It's the message Christians have been called to share. The core of everything followers of Christ are supposed to be about. Yet I think it's also one of the easiest things to become numb to, as we hear it over and over again and forget it's true power in our lives.
Because truthfully, it doesn't matter how much I learn out here this summer. It doesn't matter how many people I share the gospel with. It doesn't matter how right I try to live, how much I pray, how devoted my quiet times are. Serving doesn't count. Spiritual disciplines don't count. Worship doesn't count. None of it counts in the end because none of that saves me or makes me a better Christian or person.
Grace does. Undeserved and unearned salvation regardless of who I am or am not. Regardless of how I succeed or fail. Regardless of what I do or don't. Yet how easy is it to forget that when I, when all of us, become so wrapped up in trying to serve God that we forget the reason why we're even able to? We serve because He served us. We pour grace on others because we're drowning in it. We're not worthy of anything more than the next person over, and I'm still learning that.
And even though I know there's a lot of time left out here, I've realized once again that living as a follower of Jesus all comes back to the basics. Loving God comes first. Then out of that love will come missions, service, worship, the answers to life's questions, everything. But it starts and ends with the basic message of the cross and God's grace to us through that gift. Rather than just a one time deal, it's learning the beauty of that gift over and over and over again, and I've still got a long way to go.
One is the following quote - "Giving what you've got is probably not enough in your mind, but God can make it. Keep on believing He will, and watch what God can do." Our speaker this morning was talking about Jesus turning five loaves of bread and two fish into enough food to feed a crowd of 5,000 (Mark 6:33-44), but it hit me in regards to my struggle yesterday. It's hard to understand why God lets so much hurt persist and know that I can't do much to help alleviate it, but today I was convicted in the Word and by that quote up above.
God knows there are hurts. God knows there are needs. And as a short-sighted human, it's easy to become overwhelmed and discouraged when we wonder why He's not meeting them. Soothing them. Changing them. So then we take it on ourselves to fix it. Change it. Alter it. Yet God never asked us to. He asked us to give what we have to help, and He'll make it enough for the purpose He's called us to. He fed the 5,000. He will end the suffering of this world. And I was not made to tell Him what He's not doing.
This leads me to conviction two - letting Him work rather than taking it on myself to try and solve. Tonights talk was about grace, and it was really humbling. God's free gift of salvation to all who call on Him as Lord is grace in it's purest and simplist form, and it's the foundation of what it means to follow Him. It's the message Christians have been called to share. The core of everything followers of Christ are supposed to be about. Yet I think it's also one of the easiest things to become numb to, as we hear it over and over again and forget it's true power in our lives.
Because truthfully, it doesn't matter how much I learn out here this summer. It doesn't matter how many people I share the gospel with. It doesn't matter how right I try to live, how much I pray, how devoted my quiet times are. Serving doesn't count. Spiritual disciplines don't count. Worship doesn't count. None of it counts in the end because none of that saves me or makes me a better Christian or person.
Grace does. Undeserved and unearned salvation regardless of who I am or am not. Regardless of how I succeed or fail. Regardless of what I do or don't. Yet how easy is it to forget that when I, when all of us, become so wrapped up in trying to serve God that we forget the reason why we're even able to? We serve because He served us. We pour grace on others because we're drowning in it. We're not worthy of anything more than the next person over, and I'm still learning that.
And even though I know there's a lot of time left out here, I've realized once again that living as a follower of Jesus all comes back to the basics. Loving God comes first. Then out of that love will come missions, service, worship, the answers to life's questions, everything. But it starts and ends with the basic message of the cross and God's grace to us through that gift. Rather than just a one time deal, it's learning the beauty of that gift over and over and over again, and I've still got a long way to go.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
[saving the world. or not]
So LA. How to explain? The weather, mountains and palm trees are beautiful. The stuff we're learning is overwhelming, challenging, convicting, humbling, eye-opening. The people - amazing. In some ways I feel like I've been here for months. In others, I feel like we just arrived.
We've learned that missions isn't a command. It's a promise from God that He will redeem the world and bring peoples from all nations to worship Him as Lord. We've learned that God's plan for missions isn't tied up in a couple of verses at the end of Matthew. It's the theme of the entire Bible. We've learned about God's glory and how He intends to accomplish His purposes on this earth with or without us. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Just the salt on the meat. Just a snap-shot of everything we're learning.
And until I had to apply it to real life, I scribbled everything down furiously, learned as much as I could in and soaked it all up. Even today, the speaker challenged us to be content doing what God gives us to do rather than self-assigning our own mission because of overwhelming compassion for some noble cause, and I really liked that. So much of my heart breaks for the injustices of this world - child soldiers, genocide, starvation, homelessness, poverty, disease, forced prostitution, rape as a tool of war, hopelessness, modern day slavery, orphans and children without the opportunity to go to school and dream big. But I've also accepted the fact that God never asked me to save the world. He's given me compassion, but I cannot run off to volunteer for every good cause. I understand that.
However, what I don't get is why there is still so much hurt here beyond noble causes. This morning in class, it was so clear. It's because of sin. This world is a mess because we all live in sin daily. And until Jesus comes back to fulfill His ultimate promise of redeeming the world, this earth will continue to be a mess. Yeah that sounds easy enough to understand.
But then I pull myself away from the classroom. From my notes. From my head knowledge. And that's where it gets tough. That's where I have to apply it to real life, and frankly, real life isn't so straight-forward. I find myself at loss for words as I listen to two different friends describe real hurts caused by others. Real pain through no fault of their own. Real struggles that are hard to understand, hard to explain away, hard to answer when the only question is "Why?" Why God.
If He is going to redeem and save this world from all the hurt and injustice, then what is He waiting for you know? Like the Lincoln Brewster song goes:
"surely children weren't made for the streets
and fathers were not made to leave
surely this isn't how it should be
let Your kingdom come
surely nations were not made for war
or the broken meant to be ignored
surely this just can't be what you saw
let your kingdom come"
And yet I know that every person must have an opportunity to hear the gospel before Jesus comes back again, and until then, our part is in the chorus no matter how much pain life brings to us and those close to us:
"I will live
to carry Your compassion
to love a world that's broken
to be Your hands and feet
and I will give
with the life that I've been given
and go beyond religion
to see the world be changed
by the power of Your name"
We may not understand God's timing. We may not understand why He performs miracles in some situations and seems to watch as others cause more pain. We may not be able to save the world from injustice and unfairness, but there's a God Who reigns that can. There's a God Who reigns that will. And He's going to do it for His glory and His fame, not ours.
God is faithful. I truly believe that. And I know there is goodness on this earth (Psalm 27:13). My question is how to let God truly break my heart for what breaks His while also standing by and being content with my small part. My mist of a life. My single grain in the sands of time. That's a challenge. That's convicting. And I don't know what it looks like.
We've learned that missions isn't a command. It's a promise from God that He will redeem the world and bring peoples from all nations to worship Him as Lord. We've learned that God's plan for missions isn't tied up in a couple of verses at the end of Matthew. It's the theme of the entire Bible. We've learned about God's glory and how He intends to accomplish His purposes on this earth with or without us. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Just the salt on the meat. Just a snap-shot of everything we're learning.
And until I had to apply it to real life, I scribbled everything down furiously, learned as much as I could in and soaked it all up. Even today, the speaker challenged us to be content doing what God gives us to do rather than self-assigning our own mission because of overwhelming compassion for some noble cause, and I really liked that. So much of my heart breaks for the injustices of this world - child soldiers, genocide, starvation, homelessness, poverty, disease, forced prostitution, rape as a tool of war, hopelessness, modern day slavery, orphans and children without the opportunity to go to school and dream big. But I've also accepted the fact that God never asked me to save the world. He's given me compassion, but I cannot run off to volunteer for every good cause. I understand that.
However, what I don't get is why there is still so much hurt here beyond noble causes. This morning in class, it was so clear. It's because of sin. This world is a mess because we all live in sin daily. And until Jesus comes back to fulfill His ultimate promise of redeeming the world, this earth will continue to be a mess. Yeah that sounds easy enough to understand.
But then I pull myself away from the classroom. From my notes. From my head knowledge. And that's where it gets tough. That's where I have to apply it to real life, and frankly, real life isn't so straight-forward. I find myself at loss for words as I listen to two different friends describe real hurts caused by others. Real pain through no fault of their own. Real struggles that are hard to understand, hard to explain away, hard to answer when the only question is "Why?" Why God.
If He is going to redeem and save this world from all the hurt and injustice, then what is He waiting for you know? Like the Lincoln Brewster song goes:
"surely children weren't made for the streets
and fathers were not made to leave
surely this isn't how it should be
let Your kingdom come
surely nations were not made for war
or the broken meant to be ignored
surely this just can't be what you saw
let your kingdom come"
And yet I know that every person must have an opportunity to hear the gospel before Jesus comes back again, and until then, our part is in the chorus no matter how much pain life brings to us and those close to us:
"I will live
to carry Your compassion
to love a world that's broken
to be Your hands and feet
and I will give
with the life that I've been given
and go beyond religion
to see the world be changed
by the power of Your name"
We may not understand God's timing. We may not understand why He performs miracles in some situations and seems to watch as others cause more pain. We may not be able to save the world from injustice and unfairness, but there's a God Who reigns that can. There's a God Who reigns that will. And He's going to do it for His glory and His fame, not ours.
God is faithful. I truly believe that. And I know there is goodness on this earth (Psalm 27:13). My question is how to let God truly break my heart for what breaks His while also standing by and being content with my small part. My mist of a life. My single grain in the sands of time. That's a challenge. That's convicting. And I don't know what it looks like.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
[God's gospel. not mine]
They weren't lying when they called this thing intensive training. I'm out in Los Angeles for a seven-week program to learn about world religions and missions, and a lot has happened in a couple of days.
I've been incredibly humbled by the request to leave my "spiritual resumé" at the door. I've had the opportunity and challenge of sharing the gospel with a Buddhist who had never heard it before and didn't know she could become a Christian because of that even if she believed in Jesus. I've been taught a new way of studying the Bible when our large group spent almost two hours looking at the same six verses. I've had some awesome and deep conversations with others in the program, and I've been reminded over and over again that I have a lot to learn.
Truthfully, I'm not even sure how to unpack it into simple words. The only thing I keep coming back to is Psalm 19 about the power and promise of God and His Word. And I like the quote that I wrote in my Bible next to the psalm which says, "Sometimes we get distracted and forget the simple power and wisdom found in the message of the Gospel of Christ. We want to enhance it with our wisdom. We want to attain it with our power. We want to make it more compatible with our world." Guilty. As. Charged.
To think I traveled half-way across the U.S. of A only to be brought back to the core message of what truly following Jesus means. That it's not about my efforts, my spiritual resumé or my understanding of God at this point in my life. That it's not about me. And that it's all about Him and His power and His gospel. Cool beans.
I've been incredibly humbled by the request to leave my "spiritual resumé" at the door. I've had the opportunity and challenge of sharing the gospel with a Buddhist who had never heard it before and didn't know she could become a Christian because of that even if she believed in Jesus. I've been taught a new way of studying the Bible when our large group spent almost two hours looking at the same six verses. I've had some awesome and deep conversations with others in the program, and I've been reminded over and over again that I have a lot to learn.
Truthfully, I'm not even sure how to unpack it into simple words. The only thing I keep coming back to is Psalm 19 about the power and promise of God and His Word. And I like the quote that I wrote in my Bible next to the psalm which says, "Sometimes we get distracted and forget the simple power and wisdom found in the message of the Gospel of Christ. We want to enhance it with our wisdom. We want to attain it with our power. We want to make it more compatible with our world." Guilty. As. Charged.
To think I traveled half-way across the U.S. of A only to be brought back to the core message of what truly following Jesus means. That it's not about my efforts, my spiritual resumé or my understanding of God at this point in my life. That it's not about me. And that it's all about Him and His power and His gospel. Cool beans.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
[making fewer plans]
They say life is what happens when you're busy making plans. Usually the story of my life. But for the last month since school got out, I made as few plans as possible, and the change was really great.
I attended almost every life event from a baby shower to a baptism to graduation parties, weddings and a funeral. I also had lots of quality time to spend with friends and family, ran, biked, journaled, read the Bible, gardened, mowed, picked strawberries, baled hay, tried to keep the kitchen and laundry shuffle in some sort of order, dominated a puzzle, finally finished a book and made and sent out my thank yous to all my financial supporters for the I.T. project in LA. Wow you'd think I was some sort of blogger for a middle-aged housewife magazine or something! Truly I'm not, but it was fun to be able to help around the farm and house without a constant schedule/plan of places to be, things to do and people to see.
However, I don't think that problem is unique to me. It's a disease of our society, and it's also really hard to change. How do we slow down and learn to soak up life rather than letting the idea of life soak up us? How do we take a time-out and look around us to realize all there is in this world to be thankful for despite our constant discontentment with something or someone? How do we live intentionally rather than letting our jobs, our bank accounts, our wants or our to-do lists consume us?
I don't have the magic, universal answer. If you do, fill the rest of us in. But I do know that we don't deserve to complain about it if we aren't willing to change it. I mean, the entire last semester I've hated how much I run from one activity to the next. One appointment to the next. One coffee date to the next. And yet I wasn't willing to say no. I wasn't willing to think of my life in more than hour-by-hour spans of time. And life is what happened when I was busy making plans.
Now I'm in LA for seven weeks - one of the busiest places in the world when you think of crazy city drivers, pace, everything. But I don't want to be so "American" anymore. So go go go. Got a huge dose of what that felt like to slow down in South Africa and loved it. Got another small one the last month or so at home and loved it. And someday I hope I can do that no matter where I live. The next seven weeks out here could be quite fast paced and intense, but my goal is to make the most of my free time rather than feeling obligated to fill it. Because I feel like it'd be ok if our society slowed down. Just a little bit. And then maybe we'd have time to enjoy life beyond our immediate plans.
I attended almost every life event from a baby shower to a baptism to graduation parties, weddings and a funeral. I also had lots of quality time to spend with friends and family, ran, biked, journaled, read the Bible, gardened, mowed, picked strawberries, baled hay, tried to keep the kitchen and laundry shuffle in some sort of order, dominated a puzzle, finally finished a book and made and sent out my thank yous to all my financial supporters for the I.T. project in LA. Wow you'd think I was some sort of blogger for a middle-aged housewife magazine or something! Truly I'm not, but it was fun to be able to help around the farm and house without a constant schedule/plan of places to be, things to do and people to see.
However, I don't think that problem is unique to me. It's a disease of our society, and it's also really hard to change. How do we slow down and learn to soak up life rather than letting the idea of life soak up us? How do we take a time-out and look around us to realize all there is in this world to be thankful for despite our constant discontentment with something or someone? How do we live intentionally rather than letting our jobs, our bank accounts, our wants or our to-do lists consume us?
I don't have the magic, universal answer. If you do, fill the rest of us in. But I do know that we don't deserve to complain about it if we aren't willing to change it. I mean, the entire last semester I've hated how much I run from one activity to the next. One appointment to the next. One coffee date to the next. And yet I wasn't willing to say no. I wasn't willing to think of my life in more than hour-by-hour spans of time. And life is what happened when I was busy making plans.
Now I'm in LA for seven weeks - one of the busiest places in the world when you think of crazy city drivers, pace, everything. But I don't want to be so "American" anymore. So go go go. Got a huge dose of what that felt like to slow down in South Africa and loved it. Got another small one the last month or so at home and loved it. And someday I hope I can do that no matter where I live. The next seven weeks out here could be quite fast paced and intense, but my goal is to make the most of my free time rather than feeling obligated to fill it. Because I feel like it'd be ok if our society slowed down. Just a little bit. And then maybe we'd have time to enjoy life beyond our immediate plans.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
[using rather than pausing life]
I lied about totally quitting this. The past month was a little chaotic, though, with finals, helping one of my best friends with her wedding prep and day and spending more time with graduating and visiting friends, but now I'm home and finally feel like I have a chance to breathe. In a lot of ways, I feel like that's the story of my life though. It always seems to move faster than I can keep up, and I hate that I'm constantly running out of time, especially now that everyone is starting to go their seperate ways. If life was a movie, I'd push pause and/or rewind right about now.
Yet I can't help feeling more blessed than sad because I think change is a refreshing part of life that should also be embraced. Saying goodbye to what was is a great reminder of how blessed I am to have all the memories, stories and friendships, and looking forward to what is to come is an exciting adventure. If we can't freeze time then why try you know? It's a convicting reminder for me to slow down and appreciate my blessings rather than wishing for more of them too.
I mean, I've always had this theory that life would be grand if we didn't have to sleep. You see, if you actually get eight hours a day, that means you spend one-third of your day, and in turn your life, asleep! Now if only we had a magic pill that would give us all the benefits of sleep without us actually having to go to sleep, just think of how much more we could experience. I've got lots of goals and things I want to do and people I want to keep up with, but I'm always running out of time for everything and everyone. No sleep would make those things possible.
However, I also realize that if we never slept, we'd probably still fill up every hour and run out of time. It's like the more you have of something the more you waste - time, space, money. You name it. We Americans are famous for wasting it. But when you're only given so much, you value it more. You use it more fully. And I think that fact alone is what makes something truly a blessing.
So as I sit here disliking the fact that life is constantly moving forward much faster than I want in some ways, I also realize that the blessing of life and time isn't as much about the amount we're given or how fast it moves but what we do with it. We can't push pause, but we can enjoy every moment along the way. As Samuel Johnson once said, "Life, like every other blessing, derives its value from its use alone."
Yet I can't help feeling more blessed than sad because I think change is a refreshing part of life that should also be embraced. Saying goodbye to what was is a great reminder of how blessed I am to have all the memories, stories and friendships, and looking forward to what is to come is an exciting adventure. If we can't freeze time then why try you know? It's a convicting reminder for me to slow down and appreciate my blessings rather than wishing for more of them too.
I mean, I've always had this theory that life would be grand if we didn't have to sleep. You see, if you actually get eight hours a day, that means you spend one-third of your day, and in turn your life, asleep! Now if only we had a magic pill that would give us all the benefits of sleep without us actually having to go to sleep, just think of how much more we could experience. I've got lots of goals and things I want to do and people I want to keep up with, but I'm always running out of time for everything and everyone. No sleep would make those things possible.
However, I also realize that if we never slept, we'd probably still fill up every hour and run out of time. It's like the more you have of something the more you waste - time, space, money. You name it. We Americans are famous for wasting it. But when you're only given so much, you value it more. You use it more fully. And I think that fact alone is what makes something truly a blessing.
So as I sit here disliking the fact that life is constantly moving forward much faster than I want in some ways, I also realize that the blessing of life and time isn't as much about the amount we're given or how fast it moves but what we do with it. We can't push pause, but we can enjoy every moment along the way. As Samuel Johnson once said, "Life, like every other blessing, derives its value from its use alone."
Friday, April 16, 2010
[gotta laugh]
Well it has been fun, but I think I'm quitting this blog. I've got to stop running. Or blogging deep thoughts. Or thinking deep thoughts while running. It's gotten much too serious too fast, and after playing hide and go seek with the Sudanese kids tonight, I realize we gotta laugh twice as much as we cry/think about the meaning of life/dwell on deep stuffff.
[have we lost ourselves?]
It's VEISHEA. The tradition Iowa State is known for. The supposed essence of everything it means to be a Cyclone. The event some students spend an entire year preparing for. But instead of being stoked to celebrate, a huge part of me would rather just spend quality time with close friends, especially when I'm constantly reminded that life is short.
In the last two weeks three people died much too soon and one was finally found dead after missing for almost three months. 28, 46, 22 and 22 were their ages. Two were freak medical things. One was an accident. One is yet to be determined. They had plans. They had dreams. They had things they wanted to do, places they wanted to see and goals they wanted to accomplish. They had friends and family that never got to say goodbye. One was a dad. Two others were ISU students. The fourth was recently married.
And I didn't have to know them to be impacted. I know people close to them, and sometimes that's all it takes to hit you in the gut and remind you that life is not a guarantee and the end of it on this earth can come with no warning.
I think this realization is what makes VEISHEA all the more trivial, too. Because you start to wonder why we even get wrapped up in all of this when it won't really matter in the end. Heck, it may not even matter by Monday. The stories will be stale by next week, and the trashed campus will be picked up quickly to carry on with everything that means finals.
And I can't help but ask myself one question as we prepare to watch drunken madness unfold for the next two days - "We were meant to live for so much more. Have we lost ourselves?" It's the chorus of a Switchfoot song, and I think it's an honest thing to ask.
I've had my share of VEISHEA. I've tried it. I've been to the parties. I've had my "taste". But when I take a step back and really look at what is supposed to be a "celebration" of ISU, I can't help but question if we've lost that and maybe ourselves in the process.
In the last two weeks three people died much too soon and one was finally found dead after missing for almost three months. 28, 46, 22 and 22 were their ages. Two were freak medical things. One was an accident. One is yet to be determined. They had plans. They had dreams. They had things they wanted to do, places they wanted to see and goals they wanted to accomplish. They had friends and family that never got to say goodbye. One was a dad. Two others were ISU students. The fourth was recently married.
And I didn't have to know them to be impacted. I know people close to them, and sometimes that's all it takes to hit you in the gut and remind you that life is not a guarantee and the end of it on this earth can come with no warning.
I think this realization is what makes VEISHEA all the more trivial, too. Because you start to wonder why we even get wrapped up in all of this when it won't really matter in the end. Heck, it may not even matter by Monday. The stories will be stale by next week, and the trashed campus will be picked up quickly to carry on with everything that means finals.
And I can't help but ask myself one question as we prepare to watch drunken madness unfold for the next two days - "We were meant to live for so much more. Have we lost ourselves?" It's the chorus of a Switchfoot song, and I think it's an honest thing to ask.
I've had my share of VEISHEA. I've tried it. I've been to the parties. I've had my "taste". But when I take a step back and really look at what is supposed to be a "celebration" of ISU, I can't help but question if we've lost that and maybe ourselves in the process.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
[change begins with moi]
"when i was young and free and my
imagination had no limits,
i dreamed of changing the world;
as i grew older and wiser
i realized the world would not change.
and i decided to shorten my sights
somewhat and change only my country.
but it, too, seemed immovable.
as i entered my twilight years,
in one last desparate attempt,
i sought to change only my family,
those closest to me,
but alas they would have none of it.
and now i like on my death bed
and realize (perhaps for the first time) that
if only i'd changed myself first,
then by example i may have influenced my family
and with their encouragement and support
i may have bettered my country,
and who knows
i may have changed the world." [Anglican Bishop]
I rediscovered that poem on our home computer over break, and it's pretty convicting eh? I mean, I constantly have these visions of changing the world, or at least some small corner of it, yet maybe that corner is simply my heart, my life, myself. Maybe change is not about bringing justice to every single thing that breaks my heart in this world but relying on the only One who can. And maybe the most important thing is letting God destory my pride, my arrogance and my selfishness first before I begin to think I have the power to inspire or even change others.
imagination had no limits,
i dreamed of changing the world;
as i grew older and wiser
i realized the world would not change.
and i decided to shorten my sights
somewhat and change only my country.
but it, too, seemed immovable.
as i entered my twilight years,
in one last desparate attempt,
i sought to change only my family,
those closest to me,
but alas they would have none of it.
and now i like on my death bed
and realize (perhaps for the first time) that
if only i'd changed myself first,
then by example i may have influenced my family
and with their encouragement and support
i may have bettered my country,
and who knows
i may have changed the world." [Anglican Bishop]
I rediscovered that poem on our home computer over break, and it's pretty convicting eh? I mean, I constantly have these visions of changing the world, or at least some small corner of it, yet maybe that corner is simply my heart, my life, myself. Maybe change is not about bringing justice to every single thing that breaks my heart in this world but relying on the only One who can. And maybe the most important thing is letting God destory my pride, my arrogance and my selfishness first before I begin to think I have the power to inspire or even change others.
Monday, April 12, 2010
[continual transitions]
Today my devotion talked about God helping us through time of transition - changing jobs, illness, loss, new family situations, etc. I think all of life is a transition though, you know. If we're seeking to be better people, if we're growing, if we're continually putting aside our pride for God's promises, then we're always in transition. Always moving forward. Always trying to improve what is to what can be.
The trouble, then, is not so much about the transitions but whether or not we have the courage to allow them to happen. It's easy to get stuck in our ways, our ideas and our comforts. We like to be obedient to things that are easy or things we want. But it's hard to be obedient when change isn't necessarily what we want. It's easy to say yes to transitions or changes we like. It's much harder to do so when it's something we don't.
I don't think God ever asked us to like everything though. He asked us to trust and be obedient, but He knows our minds are short sighted, our loyalties fail us and our heart's good intentions don't always carry through.
However, David McNally once said, "Our lives are a continuing journey - and we must learn and grow at every bend as we make our way, sometimes stumbling, but always moving, toward the finest within us." Despite our failures, our fears or our struggles, we've gotta keep running the race. We have to keep moving on the course of life. We must keep striving for the best within us, and in turn, we may inspire others to do the same.
Isaiah 1:19 says, "If you are willing and obedient you will eat the best from the land." It's not just good. It's not just on par. It's the best. The greatest. The most fulfilling, and that's what God promises to give each of us if we will accept the challenges or transitions He puts in front of us every day. So even though the finish line is our ultimate goal, we cannot forget the everyday blessing of continual transitions. And we cannot forget all the miles along the way that make us who we are.
The trouble, then, is not so much about the transitions but whether or not we have the courage to allow them to happen. It's easy to get stuck in our ways, our ideas and our comforts. We like to be obedient to things that are easy or things we want. But it's hard to be obedient when change isn't necessarily what we want. It's easy to say yes to transitions or changes we like. It's much harder to do so when it's something we don't.
I don't think God ever asked us to like everything though. He asked us to trust and be obedient, but He knows our minds are short sighted, our loyalties fail us and our heart's good intentions don't always carry through.
However, David McNally once said, "Our lives are a continuing journey - and we must learn and grow at every bend as we make our way, sometimes stumbling, but always moving, toward the finest within us." Despite our failures, our fears or our struggles, we've gotta keep running the race. We have to keep moving on the course of life. We must keep striving for the best within us, and in turn, we may inspire others to do the same.
Isaiah 1:19 says, "If you are willing and obedient you will eat the best from the land." It's not just good. It's not just on par. It's the best. The greatest. The most fulfilling, and that's what God promises to give each of us if we will accept the challenges or transitions He puts in front of us every day. So even though the finish line is our ultimate goal, we cannot forget the everyday blessing of continual transitions. And we cannot forget all the miles along the way that make us who we are.
Friday, April 9, 2010
[excessive essentials]
They were just butter knives. About 15 of 'em. Then there were forks, two sizes of spoons and numerous sharp knives of all sorts. But I saw her eyes get big as she watched me arrange them in the drawer, and I felt so uncomfortable by the time she asked, "why do you need so many knives?"
We explained that they're just hand-me-downs and leftovers from others, but still, it got to me. Her kitchen in Africa has three knives - one for butter, one for meat and one for cutting up everything else. And news flash - her life has not been ruined. She is no worse off. Her family still eats. She still has friends.
Compared to her kitchen, those 15 butter knives were excessive, but in the U.S., I think we often use the label for only those with certain types of houses or cars or salaries or furniture or clothes. We define wealth according to brands and see many wants as needs. We need cell phones with internet. We need a new swim suit for the summer. We need the next great thing, the next fad, the next technology. But do we really? Do we really need all 15 butter knives?
I'm not here to judge how anyone chooses to spend their money either. I'm just as guilty if not more, but I don't think it would hurt any of us to take some time and re-examine what we really need. I mean, maybe this economic valley is a good thing right now. Don't get me wrong, I know it has hurt us all in different ways and different extremities, but could it also be a blessing in disguise? Could it also be a chance to realize all the things we have that we don't even realize are excess?
I know I've said it before, but that's what I love that about getting to know internationals. They keep me in-check with the things we take for granted here. Like not having to lock our door constantly or put an electric wire around our farm for safety. Like having the family I do. Like knowing that we have enough money to get by and enough blessings to forget.
Gandhi once said, "Live simply that others may simply live." And in these anxious times of tight budgets, threatened job security and bleak futures, I think it's important for all of us to remember that. To remember that we have more wealth here in terms of extras, opportunities, freedoms, safety, possibilities and choices then so many people in the world. To remember that excess isn't a term only reserved for those with huge houses, expensive cars and luxurious dinner outings. Because necessities for me may be luxury for someone else and vice versa, but it's all in perspective. It's all about having the courage to try and see ourselves from another's view point, and it's all about realizing, once again, that we take nothing with us when we go.
My grandma passed away March 14. And as I spent time at home that week reflecting on a lot of things, I realized that all the genealogy records she kept, all the newspaper articles she cut out, all the stuff she saved that meant a lot to her were really just things in the end. She wasn't an excessive or materialistic woman by any means, but still it hit me - we take nothing with us when we go. Instead I have her string of pearls, her Bible and a lot of good memories from growing up only two miles away. Some material things yes, but they didn't go with her.
So who's going to care about what kind of cell phone we had when we go? Who's going to care about the type of house we lived in, the car we drove, the clothes we wore, the purse we carried, the kitchen accessory we just had to have? Who's going to want our extra butter knives, extra t.v.'s, extra shoes, extra stuff? I'm not asking us to give all of those things away right now, but maybe it wouldn't hurt if we tried to see them for what they are. Just things. Just excess. And maybe it wouldn't hurt to be thankful that we have the ability to be excessive and the ability to change it.
We explained that they're just hand-me-downs and leftovers from others, but still, it got to me. Her kitchen in Africa has three knives - one for butter, one for meat and one for cutting up everything else. And news flash - her life has not been ruined. She is no worse off. Her family still eats. She still has friends.
Compared to her kitchen, those 15 butter knives were excessive, but in the U.S., I think we often use the label for only those with certain types of houses or cars or salaries or furniture or clothes. We define wealth according to brands and see many wants as needs. We need cell phones with internet. We need a new swim suit for the summer. We need the next great thing, the next fad, the next technology. But do we really? Do we really need all 15 butter knives?
I'm not here to judge how anyone chooses to spend their money either. I'm just as guilty if not more, but I don't think it would hurt any of us to take some time and re-examine what we really need. I mean, maybe this economic valley is a good thing right now. Don't get me wrong, I know it has hurt us all in different ways and different extremities, but could it also be a blessing in disguise? Could it also be a chance to realize all the things we have that we don't even realize are excess?
I know I've said it before, but that's what I love that about getting to know internationals. They keep me in-check with the things we take for granted here. Like not having to lock our door constantly or put an electric wire around our farm for safety. Like having the family I do. Like knowing that we have enough money to get by and enough blessings to forget.
Gandhi once said, "Live simply that others may simply live." And in these anxious times of tight budgets, threatened job security and bleak futures, I think it's important for all of us to remember that. To remember that we have more wealth here in terms of extras, opportunities, freedoms, safety, possibilities and choices then so many people in the world. To remember that excess isn't a term only reserved for those with huge houses, expensive cars and luxurious dinner outings. Because necessities for me may be luxury for someone else and vice versa, but it's all in perspective. It's all about having the courage to try and see ourselves from another's view point, and it's all about realizing, once again, that we take nothing with us when we go.
My grandma passed away March 14. And as I spent time at home that week reflecting on a lot of things, I realized that all the genealogy records she kept, all the newspaper articles she cut out, all the stuff she saved that meant a lot to her were really just things in the end. She wasn't an excessive or materialistic woman by any means, but still it hit me - we take nothing with us when we go. Instead I have her string of pearls, her Bible and a lot of good memories from growing up only two miles away. Some material things yes, but they didn't go with her.
So who's going to care about what kind of cell phone we had when we go? Who's going to care about the type of house we lived in, the car we drove, the clothes we wore, the purse we carried, the kitchen accessory we just had to have? Who's going to want our extra butter knives, extra t.v.'s, extra shoes, extra stuff? I'm not asking us to give all of those things away right now, but maybe it wouldn't hurt if we tried to see them for what they are. Just things. Just excess. And maybe it wouldn't hurt to be thankful that we have the ability to be excessive and the ability to change it.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
[. . .]
Sometimes I think God allows us to go through rough times so that we can share the wisdom and experience gained from it with others in similar situations. I mean, if learning from our mistakes can prevent or curb someone else's in the future then I think they're worth it.
But what about the times when you don't have any wisdom, experience or advice? What about the times when you want so desperately to change things or alleviate hurt that you can't? What about the times when even prayer sounds like a false advertisement? It's not working. There's no change. It's actually spiraling downward God, and so many hearts are going down with it.
I think helplessness is the worst feeling in the world, too. It's awful to see someone else's pain and know you can't help ease it. To watch someone hurt so bad and know that prayer is all you have. I like to feel useful. I like to have bits of encouragement and wisdom to share. I like to discover solutions, be helpful, see change.
And in the midst of feeling this way I'm convicted. Because maybe helplessness is actually what it's all about anyway. Maybe just the realization that we have no control and never really did to begin with is the lesson to be learned, and maybe it's just another way of striking down my pride in my sorry attempt to "fix" situations, people, problems, hearts and lives when only God can do that. It's just hard to accept that for an answer while hearts continue to break. But I think that's what trust is all about anyway, and to have trust you have to have faith.
Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. They seem to go hand in hand, and I've heard them all my life. When I actually have to apply them to real-life situations, however, they take on a new meaning, and I find out where my trust and faith are really at. It's like running hills you know. You think you're in shape until you hit the hills, and then you find out pretty quick as reality hits. Either you are or you aren't, but you don't know until you are tested.
And if our purpose on earth is to have a trusting relationship with the God who created us, then maybe a few hills are needed to get back to that basic. Maybe they're a chance to see if I can practice what I preach, and maybe they're an opportunity to, once again, surrender my need to have all the wisdom for others as I learn to give things up to the only One who does.
But what about the times when you don't have any wisdom, experience or advice? What about the times when you want so desperately to change things or alleviate hurt that you can't? What about the times when even prayer sounds like a false advertisement? It's not working. There's no change. It's actually spiraling downward God, and so many hearts are going down with it.
I think helplessness is the worst feeling in the world, too. It's awful to see someone else's pain and know you can't help ease it. To watch someone hurt so bad and know that prayer is all you have. I like to feel useful. I like to have bits of encouragement and wisdom to share. I like to discover solutions, be helpful, see change.
And in the midst of feeling this way I'm convicted. Because maybe helplessness is actually what it's all about anyway. Maybe just the realization that we have no control and never really did to begin with is the lesson to be learned, and maybe it's just another way of striking down my pride in my sorry attempt to "fix" situations, people, problems, hearts and lives when only God can do that. It's just hard to accept that for an answer while hearts continue to break. But I think that's what trust is all about anyway, and to have trust you have to have faith.
Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. They seem to go hand in hand, and I've heard them all my life. When I actually have to apply them to real-life situations, however, they take on a new meaning, and I find out where my trust and faith are really at. It's like running hills you know. You think you're in shape until you hit the hills, and then you find out pretty quick as reality hits. Either you are or you aren't, but you don't know until you are tested.
And if our purpose on earth is to have a trusting relationship with the God who created us, then maybe a few hills are needed to get back to that basic. Maybe they're a chance to see if I can practice what I preach, and maybe they're an opportunity to, once again, surrender my need to have all the wisdom for others as I learn to give things up to the only One who does.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
[the little things]
I think it's human nature to be constantly in search of the secret to happiness. There's a movie about the pursuit. There are books and volumes of "how tos". There are other blogs, other ideas, other approaches.
But I've never believed that happiness arrives at your doorstep one day asking to come in. Instead, it's a daily choice to remember that this life is a beautiful thing. It's all the small moments, simple miracles and daily blessings. And it's savoring the little things that make you laugh, make you cry, make you wonder, make you smile, make you think and make you dream.
Like learning how to strategically ride a bike without brakes. My advice from numerous attempts the past four days - avoid serious downhills and weave from side to side like skiing if you get going too fast...ditching the sidewalk to ride on the grass helps a lot too.
Or digging out my counselor DVD from camp three summers ago the other day and reflecting on all of the great memories, jokes, people, games, fun times and lessons learned.
It's having a seven-year old sing "Jesus Loves Me" out of the blue and then give you homework. She insisted I take "Five Little Monkeys Jumping On A Bed" home to read for our tutoring session next week.
It's listening to a new friend's story and being reminded once again that this life is not about me and all of my noble intentions.
It's watching the pink-orange sun wake up the world on the drive to Des Moines for practicum on Tuesday.
It's getting my support letters for a summer mission trip printed for free.
It's walking home barefoot on an 80-degree April day. Partly because of blisters on my toes from my sandels that have not been worn in much too long. Partly because I finally can, and partly because I love the feel of my bare feet on the grass.
It's the gorgeous weather, warm breeze and beautiful sunshine.
It's laughing as you watch college students play four-square in your parking lot with legit chalk lines.
It's sitting outside on a warm night enjoying a glass of wonderful Italian Moscato with my roommates and realizing some of them don't have too many college days left.
It's getting strict instructions not to feed hamburger to my new venus fly trap.
It's making and eating supper with all but one sibling Tuesday night.
It's finding a new artist who seems to know exactly what I need to hear in every song - thank you John Waller.
It's falling into old traps only to be drawn right back to God the next morning through the Word.
It's finding another wonderful quote - "No matter how widely you have traveled, you haven't seen the world if you have failed to look into the human hearts that inhabit it." [donald c. peattie]
And it's knowing that Easter is on it's way in all of its glory and promise of the life to come. Because that's where joy is found. I think happiness and contentment are often dependent on circumstances, but joy is eternal and it's not found in only the high points of life. It's a kind of peace that pervades all circumstances and is only found in the Lord who makes this life beautiful and the next one possible. Not to us Lord, not to us, but to you (Psalm 115:1)
But I've never believed that happiness arrives at your doorstep one day asking to come in. Instead, it's a daily choice to remember that this life is a beautiful thing. It's all the small moments, simple miracles and daily blessings. And it's savoring the little things that make you laugh, make you cry, make you wonder, make you smile, make you think and make you dream.
Like learning how to strategically ride a bike without brakes. My advice from numerous attempts the past four days - avoid serious downhills and weave from side to side like skiing if you get going too fast...ditching the sidewalk to ride on the grass helps a lot too.
Or digging out my counselor DVD from camp three summers ago the other day and reflecting on all of the great memories, jokes, people, games, fun times and lessons learned.
It's having a seven-year old sing "Jesus Loves Me" out of the blue and then give you homework. She insisted I take "Five Little Monkeys Jumping On A Bed" home to read for our tutoring session next week.
It's listening to a new friend's story and being reminded once again that this life is not about me and all of my noble intentions.
It's watching the pink-orange sun wake up the world on the drive to Des Moines for practicum on Tuesday.
It's getting my support letters for a summer mission trip printed for free.
It's walking home barefoot on an 80-degree April day. Partly because of blisters on my toes from my sandels that have not been worn in much too long. Partly because I finally can, and partly because I love the feel of my bare feet on the grass.
It's the gorgeous weather, warm breeze and beautiful sunshine.
It's laughing as you watch college students play four-square in your parking lot with legit chalk lines.
It's sitting outside on a warm night enjoying a glass of wonderful Italian Moscato with my roommates and realizing some of them don't have too many college days left.
It's getting strict instructions not to feed hamburger to my new venus fly trap.
It's making and eating supper with all but one sibling Tuesday night.
It's finding a new artist who seems to know exactly what I need to hear in every song - thank you John Waller.
It's falling into old traps only to be drawn right back to God the next morning through the Word.
It's finding another wonderful quote - "No matter how widely you have traveled, you haven't seen the world if you have failed to look into the human hearts that inhabit it." [donald c. peattie]
And it's knowing that Easter is on it's way in all of its glory and promise of the life to come. Because that's where joy is found. I think happiness and contentment are often dependent on circumstances, but joy is eternal and it's not found in only the high points of life. It's a kind of peace that pervades all circumstances and is only found in the Lord who makes this life beautiful and the next one possible. Not to us Lord, not to us, but to you (Psalm 115:1)
Monday, March 29, 2010
[one chance. one gift]
Since August, I've been voluntarily tutoring a seven-year old Sudanese refugee on Monday nights for an hour. Her mother never made it past third grade. Her father had moved out for a while there, and she struggles in reading, math and all things that mean school. Tonight was the first time that I got a chance to visit with her father, though, and I was incredibly humbled.
Because he told me he's hoping to go to school. Not for a certain major. Not to fulfill all these lofty dreams. Not to gain titles, fill a resume or earn status. He's going to learn English - his third language. He's going to master the basics. He's going simply to know more and is hoping it will help him get a job. Any job. He applied to Wal Mart, but they haven't called back. He worked at a meat packing plant, but that was extremely hard work for little pay and was away from his family. So he wants to start free English classes and find a way to pick up school again where he left off after high school in Sudan.
And wow. It just continues to amaze me what we take for granted in this country. I would never apply for a Wal Mart job - mostly because I hate the store and corporation and the way they pay their employees - but yeah. I was looking for a different job earlier in the semester because I was discontent with my current part-time one, yet I didn't even consider a place like that. And to him it's a job. It's money. It's a way to provide. It's work. It's not about social status or forming an opinion or worrying about hourly wages.
We had just a simple conversation about simple things, but it truly humbled me. I worry about student loans and grades and forget it's a privilege to go to college. I get caught up in thinking about what I want to do, where I want to go and what my goals are and lose sight of the privilege it is to dream big. I complain about homework, tests, papers, projects, boring classes, stressful schedules, meetings, long to-do lists, practicum hours, work, demands, demands, demands. Yet everytime I go over there on Monday nights, life is somehow simpler. We read "Cat in the Hat." We have a tea party. We do word searches. We count money. We make puppets. We play memory games. I get a chance to share the gospel with her. Her dad gets a chance to share the basics of life with me.
Somebody once said, "Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have," and I think that's what internationals continue to teach me every time I set out thinking I'll teach them. I first started working with the international ministry at Memorial Lutheran Church here in Ames in October 2006, and my life has been changed and put into perspective time and again these past few years.
Many of the Sudanese refugees I've met have experienced a lot of painful things. They've been forced from their homes. They've seen war and death. They've lost the ability to live near or with their families - one of the core parts of their culture. They are living here in a society that most of them never chose to come to, many don't understand and others have no desire to stay in. Yet despite all of this, they see so much good in the things we only complain about.
It reminds me of the time I spent over two hours listening to another refugee woman's story. I was interviewing her for a project, and this is what she had to say about education:
“I asked my son ‘what are you going to be when you grow up?’ and he says, ‘I don’t know’. I tell him ‘you have a choice. You have a perfect life and go to school every day which is a very important thing. If you don’t take advantage of it you will end up in the streets. Don’t throw your gift away. When God gives you one chance it’s a gift. God gave it back to me here because in Sudan you don’t have chances but here you do.’”
Wow. Here we have choices. Here we have blessings in abundance. Here we have privileges most of the world only dreams of, and I pray that I can keep that in perspective the next two days as I attempt to crank out another paper I'm dreading. I pray that I can see it as a blessing, and I pray that I can use my chance, my gift, for God's glory.
Because he told me he's hoping to go to school. Not for a certain major. Not to fulfill all these lofty dreams. Not to gain titles, fill a resume or earn status. He's going to learn English - his third language. He's going to master the basics. He's going simply to know more and is hoping it will help him get a job. Any job. He applied to Wal Mart, but they haven't called back. He worked at a meat packing plant, but that was extremely hard work for little pay and was away from his family. So he wants to start free English classes and find a way to pick up school again where he left off after high school in Sudan.
And wow. It just continues to amaze me what we take for granted in this country. I would never apply for a Wal Mart job - mostly because I hate the store and corporation and the way they pay their employees - but yeah. I was looking for a different job earlier in the semester because I was discontent with my current part-time one, yet I didn't even consider a place like that. And to him it's a job. It's money. It's a way to provide. It's work. It's not about social status or forming an opinion or worrying about hourly wages.
We had just a simple conversation about simple things, but it truly humbled me. I worry about student loans and grades and forget it's a privilege to go to college. I get caught up in thinking about what I want to do, where I want to go and what my goals are and lose sight of the privilege it is to dream big. I complain about homework, tests, papers, projects, boring classes, stressful schedules, meetings, long to-do lists, practicum hours, work, demands, demands, demands. Yet everytime I go over there on Monday nights, life is somehow simpler. We read "Cat in the Hat." We have a tea party. We do word searches. We count money. We make puppets. We play memory games. I get a chance to share the gospel with her. Her dad gets a chance to share the basics of life with me.
Somebody once said, "Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have," and I think that's what internationals continue to teach me every time I set out thinking I'll teach them. I first started working with the international ministry at Memorial Lutheran Church here in Ames in October 2006, and my life has been changed and put into perspective time and again these past few years.
Many of the Sudanese refugees I've met have experienced a lot of painful things. They've been forced from their homes. They've seen war and death. They've lost the ability to live near or with their families - one of the core parts of their culture. They are living here in a society that most of them never chose to come to, many don't understand and others have no desire to stay in. Yet despite all of this, they see so much good in the things we only complain about.
It reminds me of the time I spent over two hours listening to another refugee woman's story. I was interviewing her for a project, and this is what she had to say about education:
“I asked my son ‘what are you going to be when you grow up?’ and he says, ‘I don’t know’. I tell him ‘you have a choice. You have a perfect life and go to school every day which is a very important thing. If you don’t take advantage of it you will end up in the streets. Don’t throw your gift away. When God gives you one chance it’s a gift. God gave it back to me here because in Sudan you don’t have chances but here you do.’”
Wow. Here we have choices. Here we have blessings in abundance. Here we have privileges most of the world only dreams of, and I pray that I can keep that in perspective the next two days as I attempt to crank out another paper I'm dreading. I pray that I can see it as a blessing, and I pray that I can use my chance, my gift, for God's glory.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
[by faith]
Sometimes in this race of life we're not sure where we're heading. I mean, we have big ideas and want to do noble things, but we don't have all the answers to life's big questions. We don't know what's around the next curve. We can't see super far ahead, and that's frustrating, confusing, hard.
But I think that's also what faith is about. Trusting in the future despite not understanding it. Planning on the faithfulness of God rather than ourselves, and realizing that we don't have to have the answers or the details worked out. The past few months I've asked God for a lot of answers to big questions, and some have been answered. I know where I'm supposed to be this summer. I know that I have peace about the future after college. But I'm not so sure on some other things, and I'm constantly learning contentment, trust and faith in all of my frustration and questioning.
There's something about music that always seems to hit me when I doubt what I know to be true too. It has this way of describing my thoughts and giving me comfort when so many other things don't, and I've had the song "Faith is Living" by John Waller on repeat the past couple of days. It seems to describe both the person I think I am and the person I want to become. It's where I'd like to think I'm at and also where I'd like to be someday. Living by faith is never going to be something I will be able to check off my to-do list and say "done!" but I think that's also the beauty of it - a constant, life-long process. A neverending area of growth in my relationship with God. A continuous part of every mile in between.
So here are the lyrics to the song. You can probably find it on YouTube if you want to listen to the song itself:
"Faith is Living" by John Waller
I wish I could see just three steps in front of me
But the lamp unto my feet, it only moves when I take a step
And believe Your Word to me, Lord You have a history
That proves You're worthy of my faith
It's the evidence of things I cannot see
And faith. . .it's the confidence that You are holding me
It's the stepping out, it's breaking through
All my doubts and all I thought I knew
'Cause you've never lived until you've lived
You've never lived until you've lived. . .by faith
I want to be a man like Abraham
He went to a foreign land 'cause You said go
He trusted You by faith
Of a tiny mustard seed to mountains we can speak
Believe and move them by faith
But I think that's also what faith is about. Trusting in the future despite not understanding it. Planning on the faithfulness of God rather than ourselves, and realizing that we don't have to have the answers or the details worked out. The past few months I've asked God for a lot of answers to big questions, and some have been answered. I know where I'm supposed to be this summer. I know that I have peace about the future after college. But I'm not so sure on some other things, and I'm constantly learning contentment, trust and faith in all of my frustration and questioning.
There's something about music that always seems to hit me when I doubt what I know to be true too. It has this way of describing my thoughts and giving me comfort when so many other things don't, and I've had the song "Faith is Living" by John Waller on repeat the past couple of days. It seems to describe both the person I think I am and the person I want to become. It's where I'd like to think I'm at and also where I'd like to be someday. Living by faith is never going to be something I will be able to check off my to-do list and say "done!" but I think that's also the beauty of it - a constant, life-long process. A neverending area of growth in my relationship with God. A continuous part of every mile in between.
So here are the lyrics to the song. You can probably find it on YouTube if you want to listen to the song itself:
"Faith is Living" by John Waller
I wish I could see just three steps in front of me
But the lamp unto my feet, it only moves when I take a step
And believe Your Word to me, Lord You have a history
That proves You're worthy of my faith
It's the evidence of things I cannot see
And faith. . .it's the confidence that You are holding me
It's the stepping out, it's breaking through
All my doubts and all I thought I knew
'Cause you've never lived until you've lived
You've never lived until you've lived. . .by faith
I want to be a man like Abraham
He went to a foreign land 'cause You said go
He trusted You by faith
Of a tiny mustard seed to mountains we can speak
Believe and move them by faith
Thursday, March 25, 2010
[the reason for my title and my blog]
I became a runner unintentionally. I ran high school cross country with low expectations in the fall of 2003 and have yet to truly stop. It pushed me beyond what I thought was physically possible. It taught me there are no guarentees in this world - one of the most painful but life-changing lessons I've ever learned - and it later became the foundation of how I would forever look at life.
I ran my freshman year of college to ward off the "freshmen 15". I ran the next year to stay in shape. And then it started becoming my escape. My alone time. My way of thinking through things. Of over-analyzing most everything. Of releasing frustration. Of brainstorming and solving problems. Of relaxation. That last one is weird to most people. I know. But it really is. My three-mile sprints have turned into longer and slower runs where my mind is free to wander, and some of my best ideas have come on these runs.
And you know, I think all of life is like a race. There are uphills. There are downhills. There are curves you don't expect. There are times when you feel like you are flying, and there are others when your legs go numb. When the only thing carrying you on is your heart and internal will not to quit. Everyone gets a set of starting blocks. Everyone has a finish line, and we take nothing with us when we go.
But what about the miles in between? What about the minutes and hours and days and years that make up this thing called life? We are all but a grain in the sands of time, but what makes our grains count? What makes our miles matter? Do we arrive at the finish lines with legs absolutely numb from running beyond our perceived limits, or do we arrive barely short of breath and hardly tired?
That's what this blog is about. My miles in between. My attempt to make sense of the time, talents, passions, dreams and faith I've been granted. I've always felt like I'm seen as this perfect person too, but I'm far from that. I've got struggles. I've got failures. I've made dumb choices. I've got invisible scars. Yet despite all the times I've failed to truly live a life worthy of the calling I have received (Ephesians 4:1), I know the most important thing to do is to not give up, to keep running, to keep serving God and to keep trusting Him for the next stretch in the course of life, no matter what it brings.
Hebrews 12:1-2 says, " . . . let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith. . . " and it's one of my favorite verses. Life is a race. Heaven is our finish line. And God knows the course isn't easy, but He never asked us to run it with perfection. Only perserverance.
So how will we live our miles? Slowly plodding along, taking it easy and not wanting to push ourselves beyond our perceived limits or leaving everything we've got out on the course? Will we trust that God wants and is going to carry us when our legs go numb, or will we save our energy, our talents and our potential because it's easier. It's easier than believing in the impossible. It's more comfortable than letting Him have control of our lives.
We've all been given a race to run in this life, and I've definitely gotten off track. I've taken my own path. I've tried to run dependent on my own efforts, my own ideas and my own strength. Sometimes I'm stumbling. Sometimes I'm sprinting, but over and over again I've been brought back to the foot of the cross, and I pray that I would continue to be broken there and allow God to work beyond my perceived limits of myself. My biggest prayer is that I will be able to cross the final finish line and say, "I've got nothing left Lord. I used everything you gave me." And by God's grace, I pray that the miles in between would be lived for that finish.
I ran my freshman year of college to ward off the "freshmen 15". I ran the next year to stay in shape. And then it started becoming my escape. My alone time. My way of thinking through things. Of over-analyzing most everything. Of releasing frustration. Of brainstorming and solving problems. Of relaxation. That last one is weird to most people. I know. But it really is. My three-mile sprints have turned into longer and slower runs where my mind is free to wander, and some of my best ideas have come on these runs.
And you know, I think all of life is like a race. There are uphills. There are downhills. There are curves you don't expect. There are times when you feel like you are flying, and there are others when your legs go numb. When the only thing carrying you on is your heart and internal will not to quit. Everyone gets a set of starting blocks. Everyone has a finish line, and we take nothing with us when we go.
But what about the miles in between? What about the minutes and hours and days and years that make up this thing called life? We are all but a grain in the sands of time, but what makes our grains count? What makes our miles matter? Do we arrive at the finish lines with legs absolutely numb from running beyond our perceived limits, or do we arrive barely short of breath and hardly tired?
That's what this blog is about. My miles in between. My attempt to make sense of the time, talents, passions, dreams and faith I've been granted. I've always felt like I'm seen as this perfect person too, but I'm far from that. I've got struggles. I've got failures. I've made dumb choices. I've got invisible scars. Yet despite all the times I've failed to truly live a life worthy of the calling I have received (Ephesians 4:1), I know the most important thing to do is to not give up, to keep running, to keep serving God and to keep trusting Him for the next stretch in the course of life, no matter what it brings.
Hebrews 12:1-2 says, " . . . let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith. . . " and it's one of my favorite verses. Life is a race. Heaven is our finish line. And God knows the course isn't easy, but He never asked us to run it with perfection. Only perserverance.
So how will we live our miles? Slowly plodding along, taking it easy and not wanting to push ourselves beyond our perceived limits or leaving everything we've got out on the course? Will we trust that God wants and is going to carry us when our legs go numb, or will we save our energy, our talents and our potential because it's easier. It's easier than believing in the impossible. It's more comfortable than letting Him have control of our lives.
We've all been given a race to run in this life, and I've definitely gotten off track. I've taken my own path. I've tried to run dependent on my own efforts, my own ideas and my own strength. Sometimes I'm stumbling. Sometimes I'm sprinting, but over and over again I've been brought back to the foot of the cross, and I pray that I would continue to be broken there and allow God to work beyond my perceived limits of myself. My biggest prayer is that I will be able to cross the final finish line and say, "I've got nothing left Lord. I used everything you gave me." And by God's grace, I pray that the miles in between would be lived for that finish.
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