Jesus Loves Me

Jesus loves me.

Simple fact.

Jesus loves me.

He does not want me to be miserable.

He does not have devious plans to ruin my life.

He does not hate my stuff.

He does not want me to be a dull, boring person cooped up in a bare house my whole life.

He doesn't want me to never have fun.

He loves me.

And He knows. He knows the plans He has for me. He doesn't have a vague inkling. He doesn't randomly switch His ideas about my future on every odd-numbered Tuesday. He knows.

Goodness knows I don't... I'm glad Someone does!

When I feel like I don't fit in... When I wonder to myself, "What in the world am I doing here?"... When I want to turn and run the other way, a gentle whisper embraces my heart and says, "I love you, and I know."

I still don't

But He does. And He loves me.

And when I hang back, he turns His head to look at me. He smiles, holds out His hand, and without a word, His eyes say, "Will you follow?"

When I say, "I can't," He says, "I can."

When I say, "It's too hard," He says, "My burden is light."

When I say, "It's too dangerous," He says, "You will walk through fire and not be burned."

Through fire!...and not be burned!

Jesus loves me.

Jesus loves you.

The least I can do is love Him back.

Exercise and Extreme Missions

I love reading pretty much the entire content of mission websites. It really opens my eyes and my heart to the nations and their needs. A few days ago, I was reading about a mission to the Peruvian Amazon. At the bottom of the short descriptive paragraph were the two words "Extreme Mission."

Ha! said I. Horrid advertising. Who would agree to go on something called an "extreme mission"?

There was silence for a moment, and then the answer came: Well, Kendall... You said you would.

Hrrrmm.

"Anyone who does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it."

When I gave my life to Christ, I declared that nothing was too extreme. Nothing was impossible. I agreed to believe that He would be my Provider, my Defender, my Everything. I promised that I would lay down my life day after day.

And I want to say to Him, "No, God. That's too extreme"? He gave up everything for me, and I would refuse to please Him because I like my own comfort and safety too much?

The words "Extreme Mission" should, in most cases, be superfluous to us. We should be delighted to do something the world considers extreme. We should count the cost, but count it at the foot of the cross, and there find that nothing is too much to ask of us who owe our lives to Jesus Christ.

The little dialogue with the Holy Spirit continued. The Peruvian Amazon can wait. I have something a little more attainable that you can be doing right now.

Thrilled to be let off the hook for a while at least, I was eager to find out what this might be.

Suppose I did call you to Peru. Suppose I called you to go on this "extreme mission" one day -- to travel three days by boat to reach the unreached, to have little more than the clothes on your back, to trust Me for your next meal, to walk for miles on end without stopping. Could you do it?

Apparently reformed by my previous hesitation, I answered triumphantly, "With all my heart!"

Your heart, yes -- but what about your body?

Long, awkward pause. "Now that's just mean."

No. No, I could not do it. Not because God can't take care of me, but because up until now, I have not taken care of what He gave to me. It would not take long for my body to give out on me. And so He began to impress it on my heart: My life is not my own. My heart is not my own. My mind is not my own.

My body is not my own.

And so, Peruvian Amazon in my future or no, I have entered what I like to call "Extreme Mission Training." For me, that consists of, well, working out. Becoming a good steward of what God has given me. "Extreme Mission Training" wouldn't usually be as pathetic as thirty minutes on a treadmill every day...but hey, I'm also learning some things about humility.

"If there be any reserve in my giving to Him who so loved that He gave His dearest for me; if there be a secret 'but' in my prayer, 'anything but that, Lord,' then I know nothing of Calvary love." ~Amy Carmichael

God has asked me for several things in my life that are incredibly dear. After much arguing, He wins them from my grasp, and I promise, "Everything, God. Everything for You."

Except the things I don't think He could possibly use. It's amazing the things I think God couldn't care less about; the things that I think are small enough that I'm entitled to keep them for myself.

Are you willing to go to all lengths for your Savior? Maybe He is calling you to reach the unreached; or maybe He's preparing you for that call by asking for something else that seems much smaller. But for the God who could use five loaves and two fishes to feed thousands, nothing is too small to give Him. There is nothing He cannot use.

And there is nothing He is not infinitely worthy of.

Yet

There is a tiny little word in the Bible that I think is my favorite. It occurs most notably in the Psalms, as David cries out to his Lord, or in Job. They pour out their troubles, baring their broken hearts, and then almost always follow with a single word: Yet.

"Yet You are enthroned as the Holy One..." "Yet will I praise Him..." "Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him..." "Yet in my flesh I will see God..." "Yet You heard my cry for mercy..." "Yet for Your sake we face death all day long..." "Yet I am always with You; You hold me by my right hand."

There are two different ways in which this word appears. One demonstrates man's faithfulness to God ("Though He slay me, yet..."). The other displays God's faithfulness to man ("Yet You are...").

Too often, my "yet" turns into a "but." "I know You want this, God, but..." "I know what You're calling me to do, God, but..." My answer should, instead, be, "My heart desires something else, yet I will obey." "I am afraid, yet I will follow." The conjunctions mean essentially the same thing; yet there's something so defiant about the word "yet." It refuses to give into circumstances. It refuses to complain. It declares, "Nevertheless." It cries, "In spite of all that surrounds me." It defies circumstances.

In my Senior Thesis, I wrote, "Jesus describes a wholehearted love for the Lord. This love is not a partial commitment or a mere pastime; it requires 'all.' An individual who loves God in this way is not coolly affectionate. He is enthralled by his Lord, and this love affects every single part of his life." Jesus does not always ask for the things that are easy to give. He asks for the things that require more than being "coolly affectionate." He probably wouldn't ask me for my baking skills, seeing that I bake about once a year and am really quite bad at it.

But He will ask for the things -- the people -- that I care most deeply about. He will ask me to surrender things that have changed me, things that have the strongest hold on my heart, things that have shaped who I am. And once He has them, I have a choice. I can sit in rebellion. I can be angry at Him for asking for those things.

Or I can say, "Yet..." Despite all that He has taken, He will give even more: More of Himself. More of the only thing I will ever need.

And when I feel like my world is spinning out of control... When I feel like my heart cannot take any more... When my greatest cry is for my heart to simply be kept alive... Yet He is always with me. Yet He is enthroned in heaven. Yet He is God, and more than worthy of the best of my heart.

Change

I hate lasts. I hate them a lot. I don't care that lasts lead to new beginnings. I'd like my old beginnings to continue on.

But they don't. They come to an end.

Last night was my last prom. And as my last prom, it was also my last high school dance. It was wonderful, it was beautiful, and I'll have those memories forever, but when I got home, what I did was cry. I sobbed into my pillow and told God I can't do it. I can't graduate. I can't leave home and go to college halfway across the country. I can't wake up in the morning and not have the promise of seeing the beautiful faces of the people I've come to know so well the past four years. (They tell you that by the time you hit May, you'll be thrilled to graduate and get out of there. Tripe, I tell you, tripe!)

And it hurts so badly, sometimes I just want to scream. I want to hit something. I want to squeeze my fists, I want to rip up a really big plant, I want to go underwater and not come back up until I have the promise that everything will stay the same.

But things don't stay the same. Nor should they. They change. I understand it. But that doesn't mean I like it.

There is something so crucial about going through this time of change in my life. As I've gone through all these "lasts," I've been forced to ask myself, What is my constant? When I wake up in the morning, what is my trust in? While everything around me whirls out of control, what am I counting on to stay the same?

And that's when I realize that my trust is in the wrong things. My trust is in waking up to a queen-sized bed and a semi-messy room. My trust is in knowing exactly how many stairs lead up to the kitchen. My trust is in the view from my family room. My trust is in knowing exactly where every outlet is in a given area. My trust is in the mommy who never fails to remind me, "Text me when you get there." My trust is in a little blue Corolla. My trust is in a boy whose hugs I look forward to every Thursday. My trust is in a girl I can count on to hug me, and laugh and cry with me no matter what I'm going through. My trust is in a school where everyone knows your name, and you know everyone's name. My trust is in teachers who can always tell when something is wrong. My trust is in knowing I can run to my mommy's room if I get sick in the middle of the night.

And all of that is about to change. I'll be going to a place where I don't know the number of stairs leading up to a dorm room. Where I'll have a twin bed. Where I have no idea what my view will look like. Where I'll no longer text my mommy every time I go somewhere. Where I won't have a car, where I'll never get those Thursday hugs, where that girl will only be available by phone, where no one will know my name for a long time, where teachers haven't learned what I look like when I'm upset, where if I get sick in the middle of the night, I'll be all alone.

I've never been so terrified. I wish I could stay four years old for forever and sleep in my parents' bed when I get scared of the dark. I wish I could stay eight years old forever and have the imagination that never runs out of names for its dolls. I wish I could stay twelve forever, just on the brink of being a teenager. I wish I could stay seventeen and eleven twelfths forever, grown up but still held close by that childhood home.

I wish I didn't have to grow up. I wish things didn't have to change. Big girls don't cry...but now that I'm a big girl, I've never cried so much (as evidenced by the six tissues that have been used while writing this post).

But in the midst of it all, I hear whispered softly to my heart, I'm so glad you're sad. It means you understand how much you've been blessed. I'm so glad you're weak, so that I can be strong. I'm so glad you're falling down, so that I can help you back up. I'm so glad you can't do this -- because now, you'll let Me.

When everything else changes, my Jesus stays the same. When everything I've trusted in is ripped away, I have to trust in Him. When I'm all alone, I'll be quicker to run to Him. When I'm terrified, He'll hold me in His arms and remind me that He has plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future.

I hate lasts. I hate change. But I love my Savior. And if change is what will bring me closer to Him...then bring it on.

Crazy Love

Bear with me for a moment, and let me tell you who you are.

You are chosen. You are designed with a purpose. Not a single feature on your face is a mistake. You're smile was specifically created just for you, though it was meant to be shared.

You were so beautifully designed that Someone fell in love with you. In fact, He fell in love with you before you were even born. He knew who you would be. He knew every mistake you would ever make. He knew every hair that would be on your head every second of every day. He knew all the times you would fall down; all the times you would reject His love; all the times you would spit in His face in unbelief; all the times you would walk away, feeling unworthy, unlovable, unforgivable; all the times you would turn your head away in sadness, unwilling to believe that He could wipe away every tear; all the times you would think someone else was more important than Him; all the times you would refuse to trust Him; all the times you would turn away from Him and never even give Him a thought.

But He fell in love with you nevertheless. And when you heard what He thought about you, that He believed you were beautiful and special, you couldn't believe it. It defied logic. It was too silly. Too ridiculous. It made no sense. This perfect One, falling in love with...you?

And then it got even more ridiculous. Seems this perfect Man actually died for you -- and not just died, but died an excruciatingly painful death. He suffered horribly. It was senseless. He'd done nothing wrong. You were the one who messed up. But He willingly stepped in and took your place, because He adored you. And the worst part was -- He could have come down at any moment. He could have called thousands of angels to His command. But He could see into the future, and see that one day, He would have a chance of winning your heart, if only He would stay, suffer, and die now. And so He stayed. He stayed, and He died.

But it did not end the day that He died. It began. And it got even more ridiculous. This perfect Man actually came back to life. He knew that one day, you would look at this amazing thing, this "death of death," and take it for granted. But He knew it would save you -- and so He did it anyway. He knew that His heart would break because of it, when you would go through days at a time without even thinking about it. But He did it anyway, because He was so in love with you.

And then He waited. He waited for the day you would be born. He was so, so excited. He had a beautiful life planned for you. It would not be easy. You would struggle. You would cry. You would face loneliness, rejection, depression, failure, loss, pain. But He was waiting to face it with you. He knew that if you would continually keep running back to His arms, all the pain you were experiencing would pale in comparison to His great, great love for you. In those moments with Him, you would forget this world, and you would remember that one day, the two of you would be perfectly, eternally together. And you would never hurt again.

But the world that He had created -- filled with beauty, because He wanted to fill your heart with the joy of a sunrise and the peace of a rainbow -- became distracting. You forgot that He was much, much more lovely than the world around you. And without Him in every day, the world started to lose its enchantment. Instead of the difficult but beautiful walk with Him that He had planned, you walked away, trying to face the problems set before you on your own. You knew He was still there, and you still talked to Him; but you did not understand the passionate relationship He wanted. And so while His words affected your decisions, His presence was not constantly felt in your daily life.

And so you began taking on things that He never wanted you to deal with on your own. The life He had designed to be so joyful, even in the face of adversity, was drudgery. The circumstances you were never meant to carry by yourself nearly overwhelmed you. The losses He wanted so desperately to help heal became aching, festering sores. Your heart wandered further and further away from Him as you wondered how Someone who had the ability to overcome death could allow these things to happen to you.

But this was not the way it was supposed to be. This was not the way it had to be. He made you more than a conqueror, if only you would claim His strength and your weakness each and every morning. If only you would give your life completely over to Him, to guide as He would. He would take you places you could never imagine. Not all of them would be "fun"; not all of them would be easy; and He might lead you even to death. But He would be there. And He would prove Himself far more than enough.

And so He continues waiting. He waits for you to run back. He waits for you to understand how overwhelming His love is for you. He waits for you to realize that He wants so much more than just a part of you, because He made all of you, and He loves it. He waits for you to remember that though the world is beautiful, it is fleeting, but He will always be there. He waits for you to accept His pursuit, to fall into His arms, to give Him everything that you've been carrying.

And as soon as you do, He holds you close and weeps over you. He rejoices over you as though you are the only one in the world. He heals your shattered heart. He dries your tears and does everything He can just to see you smile again. He picks up the weight that was meant to fall on His back all along. He gives you a reason to get up in the morning. He reminds you that you are His, and that though you may have left Him, though you may have tried to live without Him for a time, He never left your side. He was there, pursuing, loving, waiting. And He is so happy you came back, He will spend the rest of eternity quieting you with His love and rejoicing over you with singing. He is so excited to help you discover the life He had planned for you from the beginning of time; the life that was in His mind when He was dying; the life He loves.

Your past does not matter. Your future rests in His hands. And right here, right now, you are crazily loved.

"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

Back to the Decapolis

"In the Kingdom of God, there are those who are great, and those who are...well, they're just not so great."

In the sense of "those who are first shall be last, and those who are last shall be first," this is true. But in another sense, this is a flat-out lie.

One of the many, many miracles that Jesus worked in His time on earth was the healing of a demon-possessed man. This man dwelt in the hills, lived among the tombs. This man was a cutter who harmed himself no matter what people did to prevent him. This man had enough demons in him to possess two thousand pigs when they were cast out. Yes. Two thousand. That's a really super-possessed guy right there.

Obviously, his healing was a huge deal. Not only did his life completely change, but he ruined thousands of ham dinners! Not that anyone back then was eating ham dinners, but still...

Anywho. The point is, that was an astounding thing that Jesus did for this man. This guy has an awesome testimony. He would be a perfect candidate to join Jesus' ministry, follow Him everywhere He goes, and shout, "Hallelujah!" at the opportune moments.

And so, we get the following story: "As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. Jesus did not let him, but said, 'Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.' So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed."

If anyone would be an amazing missionary, the first to travel to foreign lands and tell about this incredible Man named Jesus, it would be this guy. If anyone would be the perfect thirteenth apostle, it'd be this guy. If anyone should be selected to accompany Jesus on the rest of his ministry, it would be this guy, boldly proclaiming what God had done for him to all who doubted.

But Jesus says, "No. Go home."

At this point, I think I would've broken in saying, "But -- but -- but Jesus!! I want to do amazing, awesome, incredible, impossible things for you! I want to come with you! You've done so much for me, and You just want me to go home? I'm sorry, but that's not quite along the lines of the death-defying ministry I was picturing in my head..."

But Jesus says, "Go home." And the man obediently returns to the Decapolis and proclaims the Name of Jesus there. And guess what? People were amazed. He had an awesome, effective ministry, just by going home.

It is a common misconception that everyone who becomes a Christian, in order to be a real Christian, needs to go into ministry. Needs to move oversees to be a missionary. Needs to adopt seven children from China. Not so. Have you ever considered that it might be your calling to stay home? To support a husband as he works for God's kingdom, to raise children to honor their Heavenly Father? To work at a grocery store and encourage every person who comes through your line?

Absolutely everything you do can be an offering to God. Whether it's washing dishes, serving tables, teaching, or being a biologist -- there are so many opportunities to be a missionary right where you are. Not everyone is called to go to Africa; not everyone was called to be a pastor. Every single person is called to be a missionary, and to be in ministry -- but your mission field might be Anywhere, Pennsylvania. Who knows what incredible plans God has for you whatever He calls you to do?

We hear very little of Andrew in the Bible; but we do hear a great deal about his brother Peter. Peter's the one who gets all the stories, all the letters, all the remembrance. But if it weren't for Andrew, Peter never would have even met Jesus. Andrew was the first to meet Jesus, and was so excited about it that he went and took his brother to meet this remarkable Man.

Are you willing to be an Andrew, whose greatest achievement was bringing someone else to be great for Christ? Are you willing to recognize that your life can have a ripple effect, with results that you might not ever see? Are you willing to understand that every task that seems mundane can be an offering, and can have impact of eternal significance?

You are important. Your Father in heaven has amazing plans for you. They may not seem like much -- but just wait until heaven, when you get to hear Him say, "Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share in your Master's happiness!"

Dear You

So, I've gotten several responses regarding the fact that I write my future husband letters. And I've had at least six people ask me how in the world you start. So, although this is not the "first letter" I've written to my husband, it is a "first letter" that somehow didn't make it into my happy notebook of wonder and love. This one is not going to my husband, so I thought I'd post it here for all of you to see an example. Obviously this is not the only way it can be done, so don't feel inclined to copy me!!

Dear You,

So, hi. I'm your wife. Nice to meet you.

I'm quite in love with you. Do you know that? Let me tell you a bit about what you are. You're head-over-heels in love with Jesus Christ. You care for other people more than you care for yourself. You're going to be a great daddy. You respect me. You like my family. My family likes you. You're my very bestest friend, next to Jesus. And I have a whole list of things you are down in a box in my room. I take it out every once in a while and remind myself that you are a person very worth waiting for.

So who are you? Do I know your name already? Are you on the other side of the world, or are you right across town? Have we walked the same halls, or have our feet never touched the same ground?

I don't know. But I will one day. I am so very excited for that day.

Now let me tell you a bit about who I am right now.

I'm seventeen years old. I'm crazy in love with Jesus Christ. You see, the thing is, I'm in love with you, but you're not the center of my life. As wonderful as you are, I know you'll mess up. I'm quite aware of that. So I have decided not to make you the foundation of my happiness. My eternal, perfect Prince is the one who determines my happiness. I hope that takes lots and lots of pressure off of you. And I hope it also leads you to find total fulfillment in Christ, so that you can take the pressure off of me -- believe me, I know I will mess up!

I've made a commitment to you, and to God. I've promised my Creator and the Author of our love story that this story will only exist if it will bring Him more glory -- if we can work for His Kingdom better hand-in-hand than on our own. And I've promised you that I'm waiting, no matter how long, no matter how hard, until Jesus gives you my entire heart. These promises have not always been easy to keep. But thanks to a God who makes all things new, He's taken my mistakes and made them into some of my most beautiful lessons. And through it all, He's held my heart.

And that's really what this letter is all about -- the God who's held my heart. He's the One who's brought us this far, and He's the only One who will be able to keep us together and continue to script a beautiful love story long after "I do." He's the only One who makes it possible for me to offer you the untainted gift of my heart, despite all my mistakes. He's the only One -- well, He's just the only One, isn't He?

So tonight, I pray that you're learning to surrender your heart completely to the God who loves you better than I do. I pray for your safety, I pray for your family, I pray for everything about you, that it would all be lost and swallowed up in the magnificent heart of Jesus Christ.

Waiting,
~Kendall

Just One Second

Give me Your eyes for just one second
Give me Your eyes so I can see
Everything that I've been missing
Give me Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the brokenhearted
Ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me a heart for the ones forgotten
Give me Your eyes so I can see

Okay, I'm not really a huge fan of that song. But for some reason, even though I change the channel every time I hear it, and so have not heard it in its entirety in months, I found the chorus running through my head over and over while sitting in the airport on my way to Las Vegas. I quickly replaced it with a song I liked more, and didn't think much about it.

Being in Las Vegas for four days, including an evening on the strip, I saw a lot of things. A lot of ads I wish I'd never seen, a lot of pictures I could've done without, a lot of sad, confused people wandering around looking for significance in places they will never find it. And it did burden me...but my heart never broke for these people. I don't know why. But while it made me sad, it never made me think, "Ah! This is how God feels about these people!"

On the flight home, sitting looking out the window, the song started going through my head again. I realized how huge this world is...yet so small in comparison. And how God has a unique, beautiful plan for everyone who was down below me, and aches for them to discover it. I wondered if this was how He feels, looking down from above and knowing that so many people have yet to encounter Him in a powerful way...because nobody will tell them. Lord, I prayed, give me Your eyes. Give me Your eyes, even for just one second.

As I prayed fervently to know the heartbeat of heaven, the call on my heart was so clear: Go. Tell them. Show them. Serve them. Love them. That's a recurring call for me. I have too much joy, too much love from Jesus to not share it. Occasionally, I get these random urges to run out into downtown, grab somebody, and tell them, "OhmygoodnessJesuslovesyousooooomuchandyoushouldloveHimtoo!" but I doubt that often works... Anywho, as I prayed, God gently showed me, You already love Me. Now can you love the ones I love?

So I continued to pray for passionate love for the lost and broken people around me. For the ones who think they're happy...but have yet to experience true joy. For people who have come to the end of their rope, and are ready to hear about the amazing love that is offered so freely.

Caught up in the excitement of telling my dad about my trip to Vegas on the drive home, I forgot this prayer. I forgot that I had asked to see through heaven's eyes, to feel my heart break, to have my eyes fill with the tears of Christ. However, as my parents were discussing something unrelated to me, my eyes drifted to the side of the road just in time to see a young man sit down on the sidewalk, pull his knees up to his chest, and bury his head in his hands.

In that split second, my heart broke. I could almost feel my hand reaching out to him as our car flew past. An overwhelming desire to turn around, sit down beside him, and ask him his story filled my heart. All I could do was pray as I thought about how defeated, how lonely, how broken he looked. And I knew -- I had been given what I asked for. I'd seen through God's eyes for just one second. In my four days in Las Vegas, my heart had never cried out against sin and despair as much as it did in that moment. And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I have to tell them. There are so many people -- so many -- who have no idea about the love that Jesus has for them. Or if they do, they don't understand it, they don't believe it, they don't see it, and I have to tell them!

I didn't know how. Still don't. But I have an infinitely faithful God. He's what this life is all about. I can't do anything. I can sit here and write this blog, I can share the Gospel with as many people as I want to, but I will have no effect if God's not at work. He is infinitely trustworthy. And the more I realize that, the more I lose myself. The more I realize how insignificant I am, the more God can do things of eternal significance through me. And the more my heart breaks, the more I know without a doubt that I have to share the amazing, beautiful, fun life I've found in Jesus Christ. I trust that He will take me where I need to go in His time.

If you dare -- if you long to have a calling, if you long to feel heaven's heartbeat sound in your chest -- then ask. Pray for the Lord's eyes for a single moment. Pray for a single second that will change your life and inspire you to go. It is a prayer that He delights to answer.

By the way, that song, the one going through my head in the airport and the airplane: I had to look it up to figure out the exact lyrics of the chorus. It's about a guy discovering God's heart for the broken -- in an airport.