"All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16).
With those words washing over my racing thoughts like a gentle wave smoothing the shore, my heart slows and my breathing becomes regular.
I'll go nowhere in 2013 He hasn't already been. He has written my days. When I wake up each morning, He's already been there. He's already seen it all. He's already carried it to completion. He's already won victory. Nothing will happen to me in that day that He has not already taken complete control of. There is nothing I'll face that He hasn't faced already, that first day that He wrote my story, that first time He smiled and penned an entire life with care and compassion and mercy and love...my life. The life He died to redeem. The life He wooed and won. The life He carries and sustains and breathes life to each and every day. The life He knows, inside out, because He Himself is its Author. The life in which He will prove His glory; the life in which He will prove His faithfulness.
The days I feel in my heart the sentence of death...this will happen that I might not rely on myself, but on God, who raises the dead (2 Corinthians 1:9). He knows the way that I take (Job 23:10). When my spirit grows faint within me, He knows my way even then (Psalm 142:10). He will shield my head in the day of battle (Psalm 140:7). When I'm bruised, He will not break me; when I feel like a smoldering wick, He will not snuff me out (Isaiah 42:3). Though my world should shake, though everything I thought was firm and trustworthy and steady be removed, His unfailing love for me will not be shaken (Isaiah 54:10).
I will live in safety, and no one will make me afraid (Ezekiel 34:28).
God has promised. And He cannot lie (Titus 1:2).
And at the end of 2013 I will be able to say, as I can say of 2012: Never once did I ever walk alone.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Monday, November 12, 2012
How to Save an Atheist
I am beginning to sympathize with atheists.
Not in belief -- no, never! A year in anatomy taught me that I have far too little faith for that.
But I am beginning to understand their persistent question: "What's the point?"
"Can't you live a worthwhile, fulfilling life without Christ?" they ask. "Why do you need Jesus to be happy? I'm perfectly happy without Him. Are you telling me that everything I do is pointless? Are you telling me I can't make the world a better place if I'm not a Christian? Why should I add Him to my life when I can benefit the world just as much on my own?"
"Well," we try to say, "you're not really happy. You just think you are."
Good try, but no one is going to buy that one. If I'm out on the weekend laughing and dancing with dozens of cool people; if I have awesome friends; if I laugh all the time; and you try to tell me I'm not really happy, I'm going to raise my eyebrows, write you off as a freak, and laugh at you later with my friends. It may be true, but try winning someone to Christ by telling them that their life is secretly miserable -- they just don't know it (poor souls!).
"But our sins are forgiven and we get to go to heaven when we die!" Great. Apart from the problem of making heaven sound appealing to someone who doesn't believe it exists, you might also try selling the idea of absolution of sins to a relativist. Let me know how that goes.
There are those drowning in the world. Those whose need is obvious, who are miserable, who are hungry for grace and meaning and life. I'm not talking about them (although their need is just as great). I'm talking about the happy atheist, the content agnostic. How do we win those who are tickled pink not to be won?
Here, I believe, is our problem: We are standing shouting, "Want what I have!" but do not appear to have anything worth having.
We proclaim divine and radical happiness -- more joy, more freedom, more life -- but don't actually appear to have more of anything. We aren't happier. We aren't freer. No wonder unbelievers question us -- we're no different from them. Actually, we're worse off, because we have to avoid all those things that are so "sinful" and "pagan" and miss out on all the fun that they get to experience. Who wants an ordinary life with the only difference being the things we aren't allowed to do as "good Christians"? Oh, and a strange belief that God became a human and died tacked on for good measure to establish our insanity.
Who in their right mind, being currently happy, would look any further into that?
Christians, this ought not be so!! Where are the Gladys Aylwards, with the power of Christ to stand in the middle of a prison and command the rioting inmates to cease? Where are the Hudson Taylors, standing up even while infected with the plague in the confidence that death would not come until his calling to China was fulfilled? Where are the Vibia Perpetuas, winning thousands to Christ by dying in the arena? And "I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samuel and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed armies."
Do our lives look like that? Because that, my friends, is what it is supposed to look like.
But we're too busy proclaiming "Christians aren't perfect, just redeemed" as an excuse to go on living sinful, self-indulgent lives with a great big "FORGIVEN" slapped across it; too busy running back to Jesus at night after running from Him in the day; too busy dealing with our own problems and vices and addictions and annoyances to experience true victory.
Have we stopped to realize that there is more to the Gospel than forgiveness? There is more to the Christian life than a few moral rules? There is more to loving Jesus than a ticket to heaven?
We aren't supposed to overcome sin because Jesus is a stick in the mud.
We're supposed to be rid of sin so that the very power of Christ can live within us.
We're supposed to be saved so that we're useful! He has promised us "newness of life," but we're looking an awful lot like the old life with a few new rules that we don't even follow all the time.
So.
What if we stopped trying to convince people of the joy of the Christian life, and actually lived it? If we're spending more time talking to our boyfriend or best friend than to Jesus Christ, we have no right to pontificate the benefits of having Jesus Christ as our self-proclaimed "Best Friend."
What if we got reacquainted with the Gospel? If we have boiled the Gospel down to "forgiveness of sins" and "heaven when you die," we've lost sight of the majority of the Gospel -- and have no right to try to be its representatives.
If our life is anything less than the very presence and power of God Himself, no one is ever going to see a difference. No one is ever going to want it. They may ask you why you don't sleep around, but they're not going to join you in that endeavor so that they can go to a place they don't believe in. They're just going to feel sorry for you.
But when suddenly our life has more -- when it starts exuding heavenly beauty, starts breathing heavenly life, starts wielding heavenly power -- that's when they'll notice. That's when it will make sense. When we look different, when we look like Jesus, when we look like we're supposed to, maybe -- just maybe -- they'll see something they don't have. And maybe they'll want it.
Yes, we are supposed to make disciples of all nations.
But first, let's remember what being a disciple actually means, and become that ourselves.
Let's have something worth having; something worth giving.
"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." | Philippians 3:12
Not in belief -- no, never! A year in anatomy taught me that I have far too little faith for that.
But I am beginning to understand their persistent question: "What's the point?"
"Can't you live a worthwhile, fulfilling life without Christ?" they ask. "Why do you need Jesus to be happy? I'm perfectly happy without Him. Are you telling me that everything I do is pointless? Are you telling me I can't make the world a better place if I'm not a Christian? Why should I add Him to my life when I can benefit the world just as much on my own?"
"Well," we try to say, "you're not really happy. You just think you are."
Good try, but no one is going to buy that one. If I'm out on the weekend laughing and dancing with dozens of cool people; if I have awesome friends; if I laugh all the time; and you try to tell me I'm not really happy, I'm going to raise my eyebrows, write you off as a freak, and laugh at you later with my friends. It may be true, but try winning someone to Christ by telling them that their life is secretly miserable -- they just don't know it (poor souls!).
"But our sins are forgiven and we get to go to heaven when we die!" Great. Apart from the problem of making heaven sound appealing to someone who doesn't believe it exists, you might also try selling the idea of absolution of sins to a relativist. Let me know how that goes.
There are those drowning in the world. Those whose need is obvious, who are miserable, who are hungry for grace and meaning and life. I'm not talking about them (although their need is just as great). I'm talking about the happy atheist, the content agnostic. How do we win those who are tickled pink not to be won?
Here, I believe, is our problem: We are standing shouting, "Want what I have!" but do not appear to have anything worth having.
We proclaim divine and radical happiness -- more joy, more freedom, more life -- but don't actually appear to have more of anything. We aren't happier. We aren't freer. No wonder unbelievers question us -- we're no different from them. Actually, we're worse off, because we have to avoid all those things that are so "sinful" and "pagan" and miss out on all the fun that they get to experience. Who wants an ordinary life with the only difference being the things we aren't allowed to do as "good Christians"? Oh, and a strange belief that God became a human and died tacked on for good measure to establish our insanity.
Who in their right mind, being currently happy, would look any further into that?
Christians, this ought not be so!! Where are the Gladys Aylwards, with the power of Christ to stand in the middle of a prison and command the rioting inmates to cease? Where are the Hudson Taylors, standing up even while infected with the plague in the confidence that death would not come until his calling to China was fulfilled? Where are the Vibia Perpetuas, winning thousands to Christ by dying in the arena? And "I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samuel and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed armies."
Do our lives look like that? Because that, my friends, is what it is supposed to look like.
But we're too busy proclaiming "Christians aren't perfect, just redeemed" as an excuse to go on living sinful, self-indulgent lives with a great big "FORGIVEN" slapped across it; too busy running back to Jesus at night after running from Him in the day; too busy dealing with our own problems and vices and addictions and annoyances to experience true victory.
Have we stopped to realize that there is more to the Gospel than forgiveness? There is more to the Christian life than a few moral rules? There is more to loving Jesus than a ticket to heaven?
We aren't supposed to overcome sin because Jesus is a stick in the mud.
We're supposed to be rid of sin so that the very power of Christ can live within us.
We're supposed to be saved so that we're useful! He has promised us "newness of life," but we're looking an awful lot like the old life with a few new rules that we don't even follow all the time.
So.
What if we stopped trying to convince people of the joy of the Christian life, and actually lived it? If we're spending more time talking to our boyfriend or best friend than to Jesus Christ, we have no right to pontificate the benefits of having Jesus Christ as our self-proclaimed "Best Friend."
What if we got reacquainted with the Gospel? If we have boiled the Gospel down to "forgiveness of sins" and "heaven when you die," we've lost sight of the majority of the Gospel -- and have no right to try to be its representatives.
If our life is anything less than the very presence and power of God Himself, no one is ever going to see a difference. No one is ever going to want it. They may ask you why you don't sleep around, but they're not going to join you in that endeavor so that they can go to a place they don't believe in. They're just going to feel sorry for you.
But when suddenly our life has more -- when it starts exuding heavenly beauty, starts breathing heavenly life, starts wielding heavenly power -- that's when they'll notice. That's when it will make sense. When we look different, when we look like Jesus, when we look like we're supposed to, maybe -- just maybe -- they'll see something they don't have. And maybe they'll want it.
Yes, we are supposed to make disciples of all nations.
But first, let's remember what being a disciple actually means, and become that ourselves.
Let's have something worth having; something worth giving.
"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." | Philippians 3:12
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Two Weeks Later
Day 1: October 17, 2012
Experiment began. Started well in the morning. Committed not to exceed a certain amount of TV/movies, internet browsing, etc. Evening found me glued to The Weather Channel and weather website tracking the progress of a potential tornado. Scheduled sleep hours thrown off due to not wanting to go to a storm shelter in my pajamas.
Day 2: October 18, 2012
Started well again. A few hours later, curled up under a blanket in front of the television with nausea and dizziness. Stayed up too late because rice takes a long time to cook.
Day 3: October 19, 2012
Didn't even start well -- woke up with a piercing dehydration headache from the day before's lack of food and water. Stayed up late because of company. Ate too many cookies.
A few days later found me looking up at a huge (metaphorical) brick wall. Here I was, striving to make Jesus Christ my first priority, and I was not becoming radiant. I did not have a gentle and quiet spirit. I was not experiencing healing. I was less healthy and more riddled with anxieties, annoyances and disappointments than ever. (If you want to become convinced that spiritual warfare exists, try this experiment.)
I took a walk under the stars, promising to pray through this impasse. I could feel it; I could taste it; victory was at my fingertips. And then came the whisper of Christ in my heart: Run.
Probably a small command for most of you, but honestly, a solid run for more than about a minute would be nigh miraculous for me. "Jesus, I can't run." I turned my steps back toward the dorm.
Run.
I turned around. I didn't start running right away, but walked until I had undergone sufficient mental preparation; then I started running.
I made it barely a hundred feet. As I fumbled for my extremely rapid pulse, swallowing back tears, His voice came: Kendall, you can't run.
"I know! That's what I tried to tell You! Why did You ask me to?"
I can.
Though it came in only those two words, I understood the whole message: Why are you trying to break through this wall? It's impassable. You cannot make yourself like Me. Only I can do that. Beating up against this wall will not break down the wall; it will break you.
Why are you limiting yourself with flimsy human rules that do not deal with your heart? Why are you trying to clean up your outside, when I'm waiting here longing to renew you from the inside out?
Why are you trying to run...when you can't?
One of the many amazing things about this little experiment is that when something I read in Scripture or hear in a sermon grabs my attention, I never hear it only once. Within a very short amount of time, I hear the same concept from no fewer than two individual, totally unconnected sources. It's not as though I go out and Google what the Lord spoke to me about; He just does it Himself.
And one thing I have heard over and over and over -- from different places and different sources that I wasn't even looking for -- is this:
"Our old self was crucified with [Christ] so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin." (Romans 6:6)
I have always been very tempted to legalism, which means I can also get extremely caught up in the letter of the law while completely neglecting the spirit (just ask me how I've managed to have multiple relationships without ever dating). So when I began this experiment, I started with a lot of rules: Don't watch more than one movie a week, don't get on Facebook more than once a week, have an hour of Bible study in the morning and an hour in the evening, and so on. And I became so caught up in those rules and wanting to follow them perfectly that the whole experiment became about the rules...not Jesus Christ.
There were definitely practical changes that needed to be made in my life to create more time to cultivate intimacy. If I put as much time into my friendships as I'd been putting into my relationship with Jesus, I'd always be having "I-haven't-seen-you-in-forever" chats. There's things that need to go. But it can't become about getting rid of those things. It has to be about Him.
Because when I sleep in an hour or get on Facebook on an "off" day, sure, I felt sheepish. But nothing threw my days off like neglecting time at the feet of King Jesus. Nothing killed a Bible study quicker than going in with a "check-it-off-my-list" mentality.
I want to reassure you of just one thing, my friend, that you may wonder from time to time from the midst of this crazy whirling thing called life.
It works.
When I opened my Bible hungry for God, asking for His guidance, direction, and voice...I have never seen an hour fly by faster. I have never had such victorious, peaceful days. I've never seen anxiety and peevishness flee that quickly.
Christianity's practical. Christianity works, because our old self died with Jesus Christ 2,000 years ago, and if we believe it, we are dead to sin, and sin is not our master.
How often do we reckon that as truth? Not nearly as often enough. How often do we reckon all of Scripture as truth? Not nearly often enough.
So my two weeks are over. But I'm not done, not hardly. I'm just getting started.
Or rather...He's just getting started.
Feel free to join.
Experiment began. Started well in the morning. Committed not to exceed a certain amount of TV/movies, internet browsing, etc. Evening found me glued to The Weather Channel and weather website tracking the progress of a potential tornado. Scheduled sleep hours thrown off due to not wanting to go to a storm shelter in my pajamas.
Day 2: October 18, 2012
Started well again. A few hours later, curled up under a blanket in front of the television with nausea and dizziness. Stayed up too late because rice takes a long time to cook.
Day 3: October 19, 2012
Didn't even start well -- woke up with a piercing dehydration headache from the day before's lack of food and water. Stayed up late because of company. Ate too many cookies.
A few days later found me looking up at a huge (metaphorical) brick wall. Here I was, striving to make Jesus Christ my first priority, and I was not becoming radiant. I did not have a gentle and quiet spirit. I was not experiencing healing. I was less healthy and more riddled with anxieties, annoyances and disappointments than ever. (If you want to become convinced that spiritual warfare exists, try this experiment.)
I took a walk under the stars, promising to pray through this impasse. I could feel it; I could taste it; victory was at my fingertips. And then came the whisper of Christ in my heart: Run.
Probably a small command for most of you, but honestly, a solid run for more than about a minute would be nigh miraculous for me. "Jesus, I can't run." I turned my steps back toward the dorm.
Run.
I turned around. I didn't start running right away, but walked until I had undergone sufficient mental preparation; then I started running.
I made it barely a hundred feet. As I fumbled for my extremely rapid pulse, swallowing back tears, His voice came: Kendall, you can't run.
"I know! That's what I tried to tell You! Why did You ask me to?"
I can.
Though it came in only those two words, I understood the whole message: Why are you trying to break through this wall? It's impassable. You cannot make yourself like Me. Only I can do that. Beating up against this wall will not break down the wall; it will break you.
Why are you limiting yourself with flimsy human rules that do not deal with your heart? Why are you trying to clean up your outside, when I'm waiting here longing to renew you from the inside out?
Why are you trying to run...when you can't?
One of the many amazing things about this little experiment is that when something I read in Scripture or hear in a sermon grabs my attention, I never hear it only once. Within a very short amount of time, I hear the same concept from no fewer than two individual, totally unconnected sources. It's not as though I go out and Google what the Lord spoke to me about; He just does it Himself.
And one thing I have heard over and over and over -- from different places and different sources that I wasn't even looking for -- is this:
"Our old self was crucified with [Christ] so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin." (Romans 6:6)
I have always been very tempted to legalism, which means I can also get extremely caught up in the letter of the law while completely neglecting the spirit (just ask me how I've managed to have multiple relationships without ever dating). So when I began this experiment, I started with a lot of rules: Don't watch more than one movie a week, don't get on Facebook more than once a week, have an hour of Bible study in the morning and an hour in the evening, and so on. And I became so caught up in those rules and wanting to follow them perfectly that the whole experiment became about the rules...not Jesus Christ.
There were definitely practical changes that needed to be made in my life to create more time to cultivate intimacy. If I put as much time into my friendships as I'd been putting into my relationship with Jesus, I'd always be having "I-haven't-seen-you-in-forever" chats. There's things that need to go. But it can't become about getting rid of those things. It has to be about Him.
Because when I sleep in an hour or get on Facebook on an "off" day, sure, I felt sheepish. But nothing threw my days off like neglecting time at the feet of King Jesus. Nothing killed a Bible study quicker than going in with a "check-it-off-my-list" mentality.
I want to reassure you of just one thing, my friend, that you may wonder from time to time from the midst of this crazy whirling thing called life.
It works.
When I opened my Bible hungry for God, asking for His guidance, direction, and voice...I have never seen an hour fly by faster. I have never had such victorious, peaceful days. I've never seen anxiety and peevishness flee that quickly.
Christianity's practical. Christianity works, because our old self died with Jesus Christ 2,000 years ago, and if we believe it, we are dead to sin, and sin is not our master.
How often do we reckon that as truth? Not nearly as often enough. How often do we reckon all of Scripture as truth? Not nearly often enough.
So my two weeks are over. But I'm not done, not hardly. I'm just getting started.
Or rather...He's just getting started.
Feel free to join.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
The Purchased Life Experiment
I haven't been here recently. I could give you the typical reasons: I'm busy, so much schoolwork, no time for my little blog and bloggy friends.
Those would be lies.
There are two reasons I haven't written. They may seem to conflict, but they don't. I can't explain it. I just know it to be true.
The first reason is that I have to write what the Lord is currently working in my life, and what He's been working these past few months is far too intimate to share with the internet. The words He has spoken to me are -- at least for now -- just between me and Him.
The second reason is that I've had a serious lack of inspiration.
I don't know how that works -- that He's been so active, but yet I have nothing to talk about. He's been speaking, but am I listening? Am I implementing it?
I don't think so.
I think I'm too busy wasting time, wasting my life.
I want more. I want to grow every day. And then I fritter away my hours surfing the internet, watching television, or doing any other number of things that are so unimportant and frivolous.
So what do I really want?
Do I want to grow in Jesus Christ, or do I want to be a mindless time waster? Because with the activities my time and energy are directed toward, it sure seems like the latter is what I really want. And that is both sad and pathetic.
So I've decided to try a little experiment.
For the next two weeks, I'll give the best hours of my day to Jesus Christ.
It will have to look a little different depending on the day because of school. But what if every day, for the next two weeks, I jealously guard my time with Christ? What if I give Him more than a passing 15 minutes in the morning and 15 minutes in the evening -- the paltry amount He's been receiving for most of my life? What if I take practical steps to avoid Facebook, avoid television, and spend that time diving deeper into the Word and reading about people from Christian history who truly understood the purchased life?
Would things be different? I can't imagine they wouldn't.
So starting tomorrow (Wednesday is an awkward time to start, but why wait another day?), I'll completely revamp my life for the next two weeks. You won't see me on Facebook much. If you call or text me during certain hours I've set aside, you won't reach me. If nothing at all changes within my heart during that time, I'll join the multitudes who have deemed this lifestyle too "radical." I'll go back to my little 30-minutes-a-day, don't-drink-swear-or-have-sex life.
But honestly, I just don't see that happening.
To be honest, it was extremely hard for me to make this decision to even try it. Leslie Ludy compares it to surrendering a handful of worthless pebbles for a truckload of priceless jewels, and here I am, clinging to my pebbles. It's pathetic, the things we seek after more than Him. The things we are unwilling to give up to get more of Him.
If I fail to hold up my end of this, I'll be straight with you. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that spending more time with Christ doesn't make a difference, if I didn't spend more time with Christ. I'm sure all of you know how easy it is to say we're going to start something, and then completely neglect to actually do it. And that's part of the reason I'm announcing this experiment to the bloggy world. Now you know. I can't pretend I didn't decide to do this. I have all of you who know full well that I did.
So pray for me, friends, as I embark on this journey. I'll be sure to let you know in two weeks what has happened.
"I have often wished that there were some way to bring modern Christians into a deeper spiritual life painlessly by short easy lessons; but such wishes are vain. No shortcut exists! God has not bowed to our nervous haste nor embraced the methods of our machine age. It is well that we accept the hard truth now: the man who would know God must give time to Him! He must count no time wasted which is spent in the cultivation of His acquaintance. He must give himself to meditation and prayer hours on end. So did the saints of old, the glorious company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the prophets and the believing members of the holy Church in all generations. And so must we if we would follow in their train! May not the inadequacy of much of our spiritual experience be traced back to our habit of skipping through the corridors of the kingdom like little children through the marketplace, chattering about everything but pausing to learn the true value of nothing?" | A.W. Tozer
Those would be lies.
There are two reasons I haven't written. They may seem to conflict, but they don't. I can't explain it. I just know it to be true.
The first reason is that I have to write what the Lord is currently working in my life, and what He's been working these past few months is far too intimate to share with the internet. The words He has spoken to me are -- at least for now -- just between me and Him.
The second reason is that I've had a serious lack of inspiration.
I don't know how that works -- that He's been so active, but yet I have nothing to talk about. He's been speaking, but am I listening? Am I implementing it?
I don't think so.
I think I'm too busy wasting time, wasting my life.
I want more. I want to grow every day. And then I fritter away my hours surfing the internet, watching television, or doing any other number of things that are so unimportant and frivolous.
So what do I really want?
Do I want to grow in Jesus Christ, or do I want to be a mindless time waster? Because with the activities my time and energy are directed toward, it sure seems like the latter is what I really want. And that is both sad and pathetic.
So I've decided to try a little experiment.
For the next two weeks, I'll give the best hours of my day to Jesus Christ.
It will have to look a little different depending on the day because of school. But what if every day, for the next two weeks, I jealously guard my time with Christ? What if I give Him more than a passing 15 minutes in the morning and 15 minutes in the evening -- the paltry amount He's been receiving for most of my life? What if I take practical steps to avoid Facebook, avoid television, and spend that time diving deeper into the Word and reading about people from Christian history who truly understood the purchased life?
Would things be different? I can't imagine they wouldn't.
So starting tomorrow (Wednesday is an awkward time to start, but why wait another day?), I'll completely revamp my life for the next two weeks. You won't see me on Facebook much. If you call or text me during certain hours I've set aside, you won't reach me. If nothing at all changes within my heart during that time, I'll join the multitudes who have deemed this lifestyle too "radical." I'll go back to my little 30-minutes-a-day, don't-drink-swear-or-have-sex life.
But honestly, I just don't see that happening.
To be honest, it was extremely hard for me to make this decision to even try it. Leslie Ludy compares it to surrendering a handful of worthless pebbles for a truckload of priceless jewels, and here I am, clinging to my pebbles. It's pathetic, the things we seek after more than Him. The things we are unwilling to give up to get more of Him.
If I fail to hold up my end of this, I'll be straight with you. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that spending more time with Christ doesn't make a difference, if I didn't spend more time with Christ. I'm sure all of you know how easy it is to say we're going to start something, and then completely neglect to actually do it. And that's part of the reason I'm announcing this experiment to the bloggy world. Now you know. I can't pretend I didn't decide to do this. I have all of you who know full well that I did.
So pray for me, friends, as I embark on this journey. I'll be sure to let you know in two weeks what has happened.
"I have often wished that there were some way to bring modern Christians into a deeper spiritual life painlessly by short easy lessons; but such wishes are vain. No shortcut exists! God has not bowed to our nervous haste nor embraced the methods of our machine age. It is well that we accept the hard truth now: the man who would know God must give time to Him! He must count no time wasted which is spent in the cultivation of His acquaintance. He must give himself to meditation and prayer hours on end. So did the saints of old, the glorious company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the prophets and the believing members of the holy Church in all generations. And so must we if we would follow in their train! May not the inadequacy of much of our spiritual experience be traced back to our habit of skipping through the corridors of the kingdom like little children through the marketplace, chattering about everything but pausing to learn the true value of nothing?" | A.W. Tozer
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
I'm With You
You've probably seen it or done it before. You have to do something...something absolutely terrifying. And four words suddenly make it so much more bearable.
"I'll go with you."
It's something I've done for my friends. It's something my friends have done for me. Even if it's as simple as having your friend up on Google Talk while you make the most terrifying phone call of your life (I'll never forget that, dash)...they're there. They're thinking of you, praying for you. They're feeling what you're feeling as much as they can without being you.
You don't expect them to do whatever you have to do for you. They won't break up for you, go through surgery for you, or take a life-changing test for you. It's not that they don't want to...it's just that it doesn't work that way.
"What if I go with you?" Sometimes that makes all the difference. Things we would never do by ourselves, we allow to become possibilities when we have the promise of a nearby friend.
At my very first piano competition, I was unexpectedly asked to announce my name and piece to the audience. I promptly burst into tears. I wanted to run away, and if I'd had my way, I would never have come back.
But somebody went with me. My mommy held my hand, walked me to the front of the room, and sat beside me while I played. She couldn't play for me. But she was there. Her nearness made me, if not bold, at least a little less of a coward.
Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.
Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
Yet I am always with You; You hold me by my right hand. You guide me with Your counsel, and afterward You will take me into glory.
"This is something I have to do alone," we sometimes say.
No, my friend.
There is never anything you have to do alone.
He won't do it for you (though there's one small thing He's already done in your place). But He'll be there. He's thinking of you, feeling what you're feeling in a way even your closest friend can't. And His nearness is enough to make us, if not bold, at least a little less of a coward.
He's there. It's as simple as that. He's there and always will be.
And that, my friends, is what has been on my heart throughout my long absence from this blog.
He's there.
"I'll go with you."
It's something I've done for my friends. It's something my friends have done for me. Even if it's as simple as having your friend up on Google Talk while you make the most terrifying phone call of your life (I'll never forget that, dash)...they're there. They're thinking of you, praying for you. They're feeling what you're feeling as much as they can without being you.
You don't expect them to do whatever you have to do for you. They won't break up for you, go through surgery for you, or take a life-changing test for you. It's not that they don't want to...it's just that it doesn't work that way.
"What if I go with you?" Sometimes that makes all the difference. Things we would never do by ourselves, we allow to become possibilities when we have the promise of a nearby friend.
At my very first piano competition, I was unexpectedly asked to announce my name and piece to the audience. I promptly burst into tears. I wanted to run away, and if I'd had my way, I would never have come back.
But somebody went with me. My mommy held my hand, walked me to the front of the room, and sat beside me while I played. She couldn't play for me. But she was there. Her nearness made me, if not bold, at least a little less of a coward.
Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.
Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
Yet I am always with You; You hold me by my right hand. You guide me with Your counsel, and afterward You will take me into glory.
"This is something I have to do alone," we sometimes say.
No, my friend.
There is never anything you have to do alone.
He won't do it for you (though there's one small thing He's already done in your place). But He'll be there. He's thinking of you, feeling what you're feeling in a way even your closest friend can't. And His nearness is enough to make us, if not bold, at least a little less of a coward.
He's there. It's as simple as that. He's there and always will be.
And that, my friends, is what has been on my heart throughout my long absence from this blog.
He's there.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Heat and Hope
1. God will call me overseas at some point in my life.
2. I hate heat.
Unrelated, you say? Check the facts:
-Port-au-Prince, Haiti: 88 degrees, 70% humidity, RealFeel 99 degrees
-Entebbe, Uganda: 81 degrees, 70% humidity
-Bracitos, Guatemala: 93 degrees, 65% humidity
-Dominican Republic: 82 degrees, 84% humidity
Yes, I really am talking about the weather. It's a real problem for me. I walk outside in the heat and forget how to breathe. My blood pressure skyrockets, my heart rate spikes, and the only thing I can possibly think about is getting to air conditioning. To put it in brutally honest terms, I guess I'm afraid of heat.
This is a recent problem. A problem that has only developed since the further development of Christ's call on my life - a call that beckons to the least of these in poor, un-air-conditioned, hot countries.
At first I took it as a sign. "Okay, I'll never go to Haiti. God's calling me somewhere else." Up popped Google to educate me about more feasible places, like Siberia and Antarctica.
But two days ago, as I brought a request about the current heat before the Lord, He spoke the following verse with power:
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline." | 2 Timothy 1:7
God never uses fear, panic, or anxiety to speak to His children.
By "fear" I don't mean He doesn't use the "fear of the Lord," because He certainly does. I mean He doesn't use what we know of as fear. He doesn't speak through phobias, paranoia, or anxiety attacks. I know of a person who had a panic attack every time they stepped inside a church. Does that mean God was telling them not to go to church? God is far too creative to simply scare us out of something He doesn't want us to do. Over and over and over again, we are told, "Fear not! Be not afraid!" If a message comes with fear and intimidation...you can bet it's not from Him.
And these attacks are not to be tolerated. Anything that is not for Him is against Him, and we have a duty to fight back; to not accept it; to invite Christ to conquer. Look what we are given: a spirit of power! We are called to overcome fear and fight Satan's attacks through the all-encompassing power of Christ -- for the same power that raised Christ from the dead is ours through Him (Ephesians 1:19-20).
What lies are you believing? What fears are you accepting? Dear friend, they are not of Christ. With Christ there is freedom and life...not fear. So invite Him in to tear down the walls. Stand against whatever cripples you and overcome through the blood and resurrection of God Almighty. Fear Him alone. Heed no voice but His. We have also a spirit of self-discipline that can consistently say "no" to the fear that rises. We are invited to cast our anxieties upon Him, for He cares for us. We need not be entrapped by worry and anxiousness any longer.
"But now, this is what the Lord says - He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel: 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." | Isaiah 43:1-2
Friday, June 1, 2012
Sovereign
Life spins out of control sometimes.
It's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens. It happens to everyone. Really, it happens to everyone, pretty much every day.
We are never in control.
"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell Me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone -- while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?" | Job 38:4-7
He...
...the One who laid the earth's foundations...
...He is the One in control.
He is sovereign.
And there is no sweeter truth.
The Christ-life is deeply practical. It is not simply for moments of riverside meditation.
It's for moments of raw pain when a well-loved man slips away with the sun. It's for moments of loneliness when best friends are half a country away and other close friends might as well be. It's for moments when year-old sins whisper lies in the darkest minutes of the wee-morning hours. It's for moments of deeply difficult sacrifice as a hand that has clutched long and tight is slowly, painfully pried open to yield up the treasure it so fiercely protected.
"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."
Faith is following when there is no light, because we have seen His face, we know His goodness, we know His leading.
Faith is falling to the ground, looking up, eyes filled with pain and confusion and doubt, and declaring, no matter how tremulously, "Oh Lord...Thou knowest."
He knows.
How it thrills my heart!
"God has a plan." How many times have you heard it? Is it cliche to you, or is it truth?
Can we not rest?
Can we not sit back, say with deepest reverence, "Thou knowest," and rest in His boundless, shore-less, reckless love?
For yes...His love isn't put off by our confusion. Our doubts do not stop it. The pain that overwhelms us is not too deep a hole for His love to spill into and spill over.
Rest is not easy. But He is sovereign. It is freeing. It is the only reason we can rest. 'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus!
Wherever you are at today, my friend, may the sovereignty of an all-loving Friend rest heavily upon you. He sees. He knows. He acts.
Sovereign.
It's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens. It happens to everyone. Really, it happens to everyone, pretty much every day.
We are never in control.
"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell Me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone -- while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?" | Job 38:4-7
He...
...the One who laid the earth's foundations...
...He is the One in control.
He is sovereign.
And there is no sweeter truth.
The Christ-life is deeply practical. It is not simply for moments of riverside meditation.
It's for moments of raw pain when a well-loved man slips away with the sun. It's for moments of loneliness when best friends are half a country away and other close friends might as well be. It's for moments when year-old sins whisper lies in the darkest minutes of the wee-morning hours. It's for moments of deeply difficult sacrifice as a hand that has clutched long and tight is slowly, painfully pried open to yield up the treasure it so fiercely protected.
"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."
Faith is following when there is no light, because we have seen His face, we know His goodness, we know His leading.
Faith is falling to the ground, looking up, eyes filled with pain and confusion and doubt, and declaring, no matter how tremulously, "Oh Lord...Thou knowest."
He knows.
How it thrills my heart!
"God has a plan." How many times have you heard it? Is it cliche to you, or is it truth?
Can we not rest?
Can we not sit back, say with deepest reverence, "Thou knowest," and rest in His boundless, shore-less, reckless love?
For yes...His love isn't put off by our confusion. Our doubts do not stop it. The pain that overwhelms us is not too deep a hole for His love to spill into and spill over.
Rest is not easy. But He is sovereign. It is freeing. It is the only reason we can rest. 'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus!
Wherever you are at today, my friend, may the sovereignty of an all-loving Friend rest heavily upon you. He sees. He knows. He acts.
Sovereign.
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