[peace: the absence of worry]

My devotion tonight mentioned 2 Thessalonians 3:16 - "May the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way." And it got me thinking about how peace seems to change meaning as it changes context.

For my friends from South Sudan, peace is no more fighting. No more death over land. Over resources. Over cows and power and religion and differences. For them, peace is the absence of war.

For friends from large, multi-millioned-people, cities, peace is quiet country silence away from the crowds and heat and crazy busyness of all that cities thrive on. For them, peace is the absence of poeple.

And God? The peace He is talking about here in 2 Thessalonians? I suppose I should go look up the original in Greek to get more meaning, but tonight I'm just going to take it at it's English translation. And to me, I sense the peace talked about here is simply a quiet heart and mind for once. It's a deep sense of confidence not in this world but in the God who made it. It's a trust that everything will work out. That life in all of its ups and downs is good. That this is not the end. Tonight, peace is the absence of worry for me.

I know it might change tomorrow. But tonight it's a quiet assurance that all is right in the world because my God's in control. Sure there is lots to be done, lots of hurt, lots of need. But Easter has already arrived. We declare every day Easter, because Satan's already toast.

[how awesome is the Lord most high]

This morning Oswald Chambers' devotion in My Utmost For His Highest really strikes me. He writes:

"It is much easier to do something than to trust in God; we mistake panic for inspiration. That is why there are so few fellow workers with God and so many workers for Him. We would far rather work for God than believe in Him. Am I quite sure that God will do what I cannot?"

Dang. Am I confident that God will pull through, or am I busy going about my own way of trying to do His work my way?

Reminds me of a verse that came up in conversation the other night but also came to mind this morning:

"With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promises, as some understand slowness."    [2 Peter 3:8-9]

The Lord is not slow in keeping His promises. He is not slow in doing what He said He'd do. He is not late. He is not early. He has not forgotten, and He is not in panic-mode or trouble.

This is a God who has steadily revealed, proclaimed and carried out what He said He'd do since the fall of man - restore the earth and redeem people from every tribe, tongue, nation and language.

With willing and unwilling hearts, inspite of unfaithful people, in the midst and through broken lives, God has humiliated Satan with the cross and open grave, given us an everlasting example in Christ for how we are to live and provided a way to be made right with Him without compromising His holiness.

God didn't ease up on His requirements because we couldn't match them. He provided a way through the cross of Christ. And He doesn't need us to see His promises come true. But He uses the willing if we will stop trying to do it our way. That's the God I'm following. And I want to see Him work if I will just get out of the way.



[the things i couldn't capture]

The last four weeks, I've been on a sprint across the world. Literally.

Spent five days in Thailand, one week in Taiwan and one week in China visiting both native and American friends. Went to reunite, learn more about their countries and bring back fresh perspective to better serve internationals here.

Then off to St. Louis to help lead a week-long Bible seminar with others from Egypt, Ethiopia, China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, South Korea and the states. Four weeks of whirlwind schedules, traveling and many new friends, but good weeks. Fun. Humbling. Exhausting. Challenging. Blessed.

And even though I tried to take pictures, I feel they don't really do justice to the best parts of my adventures. The most beautiful places could not be contained by a simple Samsung camera, and there were so many things that won't be captured by any camera.

Like smells. You can't capture those. Smells of food vendors, fresh meats, fried foods and ripe (even smelly durian) fruits freshly cut.

Or heat - from the weather, from the grills, from the people all around and the cars weaving in and out of crazy traffic. From the life that simply makes up a city - a place where the lights seem to be always on, the horns always honking, the people always out.

You can't capture people's mannerisms or language or accents or genuine laughter. You can't capture a drive through Taiwan's mountains singing along to old American tunes your friends learned while living in the states. Or my blunders at Chinese. Or the funny way a word like "sluggish" becomes a joke that makes you laugh every time with new friends from Nanjing. Or a ridiculous dance.

And conversation starters like this in a country where people are told there's no God are impossible:

She said: I hear you work at a church.
I said: Yeah, I do.
She said: I had a Christian roommate in college. She was the best person I knew, and I wanted to learn about Christians because of her.
I said: Yeah?
She said: Yeah. But my stepmom also says she's a Christian and goes to that place every Sunday.
I said: Church? Where Christians meet to worship?
She said: Yeah that place. But she's not a good person. So I decided I didn't want to learn about Christians anymore. When I used to study the Bible and learn about Christians I had peace. Now I have no peace, and I know I am lost. I think you know how to find it again.

Wow. Talk about an opportunity straight from the Lord. 

What about helping another Chinese friend proofread her testimony before getting baptized? Or spending time in prayer with fellow Thai brothers and sisters who understand what losing one's life to save it means? To often give up family, friends and cultural acceptance to follow Christ?

You don't take pictures while worshipping with believers in home churches that are techically illegal. You can't take pictures of uplifting prayer, humbling stories, the image of God in others or the beauty of sweet conversations about life, joy, grace and Jesus.

Most of all, I couldn't take pictures of the lessons God taught me. Lessons about His power and authority in the world. Lessons that reminded me He's in-charge, and He's got this. I tend to get stressed, frantic and overwhelmed about all the needs in such a broken world, but God reminded me He's not stressed, frantic or overwhelmed.

He's done this before - softened hard hearts, broken hard ground, met needs, preserved the persecuted, answered the cry for justice, worked through the broken to reach the broken. He's the one whose name is on the line here, not mine, and I'm learning He works best in the impossibles.

There's a lot of things I don't have figured out. There's a lot of questions I don't have answers to. But after the last four weeks, I have full confidence that I'm following a God who does. A hectice four weeks. An exhausting four weeks. But an incredible four weeks that taught me much about living and loving, God and people, hope and courage. Humbled, thankful and truly blessed.

[i need Easter for today, not just eternity]

Today's Easter - a day of hope and celebration. A day for rejoicing in Jesus' victory over death. A day for the return of alleluias and remembering the open tomb.

But more than assurance for eternity, God's showing me an even sweeter message of Easter this year. The last 11 months have been hard transitioning from school to ministry. How to balance my time, relationships, personal life, to-do lists and opportunities best is a challenge. How to not lose my identity in Christ by becoming busy for Christ has been tempting. And how to absorb the reality of the world's pain and crap has been the hardest.

But that's what God's showing me about Easter this year. Ultimately Jesus defeated death that Sunday morn, yet more than that, He also gave us a resurrection hope for every day of our lives. If every sin was defeated that day, then every day is Easter. Every day those who are in Christ declare victory over sin - both our own and the effects of others' on us - because the wrath of God has been forever satisfied.

The depression, loneliness and grief? We have victory over that because of Christ. The heartaches, mental diseases and cancers of life? Defeated. What about the unending questions after a suicide? Or the kid who's dad took off? Or the woman questioning her worth and value after years of abuse? Or the reality that we continue to do the things we don't want to do and fail to do what we want to do?

Can we really believe Jesus absorbed that pain and sin too? Can we believe God aches with us in the brokenness of humanity? Can we trust that we have victory over Satan's attempts to tear us down, belittle our value, immerse us in defeat and hold us there? Can we still find confidence in Psalm 27:13 - that we will see the goodness of God in the land of the living?

I mean, hope sounds great when I read and talk about it. And then someone comes to me with an injustice of life, and I'm supposed to tell them it will all be ok? They're at the foot of Mt. Everest with no shoes, food, backpack or water, and all I have to offer is flip flops. I'm supposed to hand them my flip flops anyway and send them on their merry way God? I'm supposed to trust that that will be enough?

"That's crap," was my first response. But as I've wrestled that out with the Lord this year, I have come to learn that in all things I can pray, and in all things I can point them to the resurrection where God didn't just defeat death but also sin and it's effects in the present form here and now. That He also triumphed over anxiety, depression, abuse, anger, grief, identity issues, doubt, injustice and pain that day. Pointing people to the open tomb is what it's about.

No, I don't think God's only intent was to save us for eternity that Easter morn so many centuries ago. I also believe He saved us from ourselves and this world here and now. We can live amongst the pain and crap and yet declare victory over all things unjust, all things ugly, all things sin in both us and others because of the resurrection. We can watch as He persistantly and steadily redeems the earth and its people to their original image after Him. We can find our confidence not in what we have to give but in what He's already done to make things right.

These are the truths I find sweetest today. This is what Easter's about. Christ rose so that those who believe in Him may one day live with God, yes, but Christ also rose so we can live right now, in 2012, - both fully and freely. I don't know about you, but I need Easter for today, and I'm going to need it for tomorrow. Praise God Easter is not just about eternity.

[israel]

Paul asks in Colossians 1:9-10 for God to fill his audience with the knowledge of His will in order that they "may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please Him in every way." How so? Here's the list:

-bearing fruit in good works
-growing in one's knowledge of God
-being strengthened with His power to enable endurance and patience
-joyfully giving thanks to God who has qualified us to share in His Kingdom

The list translated? Blessing. Blessing. Blessing. Blessing.

Funny how that works. That knowledge and obedience to God's will and Word ushers in blessing, yet often we see it as sacrificial, taxing, noble, "super-spiritual". Like we struggle and wrestle with God when we should be embracing the blessing. Like we think that what we have by picking and choosing which commands we like is so much better than anything He could possibly give through utter obedience. Like we pat ourselves on the back for making noble allegiances to God or singing songs about surrendering it all, but in reality we cling tightly to our plans, our dreams, our desires, our strategies, our rational, our traditions and our appetites for the world's treasure.

I laugh so easy and yet struggle so much with these same things. And I realize that God did good naming Israel "Israel". Real good. One who wrestles with God. The identity we have all inherited.

[counting my 1,000]

I recently finished the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. So good. I mean, it's easy to read a book, put it down, say it was "the best", and then forget what it was even about by next week. Been there. Done that.

But this one was different because it had something practical attached. As I read about Voskamp's journey with her list, I started making my own with 1,000 gifts/things I loved. Right now I'm only at 235, but it has been a fun and humbling adventure so far.

84. the character of old buildings

107. laughing about nonsense

138. the way a meal brings people together

161. that a dead, frozen, brown earth comes alive again every spring

212. witnessing people do what they love

226. bare feet on soft earth

That last one is a lot like reading this book, too. As I walked barefoot across the park Saturday, I realized my sense of awareness was heightened while I kept an eye out for sticks, dog poop and rocks. But in that awareness, I also felt more things. I slowed down. I actually noticed I have a sense of touch. And this is precisely what Voskamp writes about - embracing the all of every moment and seeing it as grace.

There are many things I want to take away, but for now, I am going to just let it soak in that God is good. God is extravagant. God is real. God is present. God is in the midst of details and darkness and light and even mundane. He is to be experienced and loved and worshipped.

God is a bad banker - exchanging bankruptcy for bottomless checking. Not only cancelling our debt but filling our savings. He is life and meaning and purpose, and I don't think words do Him justice a lot of times. But truthfully, I think that's ok. Because I'm learning that that's what God's about sometimes - leaving people speechless. Quieting our noise.

It's an adventure you know. A crazy adventure and a mystery and a story and a beautiful ride, and though I know not what's ahead, I crave to see what He unwraps.

[no need for religion]

The last few days I've had several surprising conversations with friends about religion, and it seems to me that no one likes it. Truthfully, I have to say I agree.

Religion makes life into a list of "dos" and "don'ts".

It stuffs our ideas of a higher power into a being who is distant, unapproachable, and disinterested in our day-to-day affairs.

Religion traps people in indifference. You don't need to experience God, for routine will do the trick.

It's conditional.

It's monotonous.

It's ever so boring and brainless and unstimulating and emotionless and why do we need to let religion affect us when our physical needs are provided for, we have plenty of dreams for our lives and frankly, we're quite short on time these days.

As I was visiting with an international friend, I realized that the belief system she was raised in only offered this. God showed me that intellect, culture and routine only go so far in comparing religions, for at the end of the day, you can know everything and still have no faith in anything.

But testifying to a relationship with a God who is not distant? That's my witness. Speaking about a God I can meet with and experience and wrestle with and return love to? Sharing a personal struggle and how God walks me through that and slowly changes my heart to see it as He sees it? Those things are my witness too.

We could debate all night and day about the differences between religions. And there are just as many as there are similarities. But something you cannot debate is personal testimony, when someone shares how they've experienced a relationship with God that is not founded on fear or culture or rights or trying to please and appease a holy God.

Truth is, I never will. Truth is, God knew we never could. And that leads us to the cross where the world's relationship with God is forever, radically changed.

I don't think religion has done a whole lot for this world. It traps us in culture. Traps us in routine. Traps us in fear about what others think of us and whether we've measured up to God's standards.

But God? He's not about any of that. In Christ, we are made right before Him. We are loved as we come, cherished as a son or daughter, freed from self-condemnation and all the sin that entangles us.

Can we believe God doesn't want our religion? Our worship attendance? Our thin love? Our charity? Our can drives? Our cheap wall hangings? Our committee meeting hours? Our service hours? Our hypocrisy? Can we believe there is something more to God than a simply a list of "do's" and "don'ts"?

"Rend your heart and not your garments," the prophet Joel wrote to a culture where sorrow was outwardly shown by tearing your clothes. "Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love." [joel 2:13]

Gracious. Compassionate. Slow to anger. Abounding in love. Let those soak in.

God doesn't need our religion world. No one does. No one seems to like it. But I am convinced we need a relationship with Him. I'm convinced He desires that and wants to meet us where we are now so we can experience Him in a way religion will never allow. That He wants to walk through life beside us - sometimes coaxing on, sometimes slamming doors shut that we liked open, sometimes carrying us when our feet refuse to go, sometimes just being present. But always present. Always fighting for us. Let us not refuse the invitation.