Day at the Zoo.

I went to the zoo yesterday. It had been awhile since my last visit, and I absolutely love it. I've been enthralled with animals ever since I was little. My big brother and I watched every animal show on television we could find, along with reading Zoobooks, collecting as many stuffed animal toys as we possibly could, and writing and illustrating stories spilling over with our furry, scaley, and feathery friends.

Though my animal-obsession has lessened over the years, animals still hold a very special place in my heart. There's just something about watching these creatures who are so different from us, yet live and move and breathe on this planet we both call home. And what's even more startling and beautiful, is the way they speak about the Creator who is theirs as well as ours.

Sometimes, I think the plants and animals and rocks do a better job of praising God than we do, with all our fancy words and extravagant shows. Walking into a church at random, I know there's a chance I might find God there. But set me on a mountaintop, with the sky stretching far up overhead, traced by the wingtips of an eagle whose scream sears the silence, and I know I will undoubtedly feel the Presence of God pressing down on me. No word needs to be spoken. Just standing, marveling in the midst of His creation, this fragile echo of Himself, and I know I will find Him there.

Human beings are a bit more complicated. Ironic, that the very creatures made in the image of God are often the ones who display it most poorly. Yet, there is something wonderful even in this. For the greater our weakness, the greater His glory.

That is why "creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God," (Romans 8:19-21).

Isn't it a beautiful story? Though we were fallen creatures, God has made us new. And now He calls us, through the power of His Spirit, to bring freedom to the world, that all of creation may worship Him together.

I Don't Know.

Let me let you in on a little secret: I don't have this figured out.

There are some things I believe as much as breathing. There are some things I am learning to believe. And there are some things I don't know if I believe at all.

It is important to me that the things I believe are true. Because we base our lives upon what we believe. I know what it's like to live in lies, and I know what it's like to experience truth; I very much prefer the latter. But sometimes, it's hard to sort out which is which. Life is complicated that way.

It gives me comfort that we don't have to know everything, that "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known," (1 Corinthians 13:12). Yes, it can be difficult, because I am a person who likes to know all the right answers. Still, it's a freedom, knowing it's okay if I don't have them. Knowing it's okay to fall deep down into the mystery.

We may not have all the answers, but we have the ones that matter--I can feel it in the faith that settles thick in my gut, the knowledge that the world says is not knowledge at all, and it is impossible to explain. These words are too small to explain.

Just like. I cannot explain why my heart is so heavy. But I think it is for you.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas.

I think one reason I love Christmas so much is, it gives me an excuse to be happy. An excuse to get excited. An excuse to give stuff away. An excuse to tell the people I love how much they mean to me. An excuse to share smiles with strangers. An excuse to make the ordinary beautiful, and revel in that beauty. An excuse to thank God for wrapping divinity in flesh, for that piercing infant scream that was His whisper to the universe, I am with you.

It makes me wonder: Why do we need an excuse? Why do we need a special time of year to love, to give, to celebrate? We talk about the "Spirit of Christmas", but there's a much greater Spirit who lives and moves and breathes in us as God's children every single day. And everything I listed above should be a manifestation of it.

I understand that life is hard. I understand that we get jaded, drained. Believe me, I understand. But instead of viewing Christmas as a once-a-year ordeal, think of it as a reminder of how God intends for His people to live all the time. And no, for you cynics out there, I'm NOT referring to the greed and consumerism that unfortunately undermines the ideal in our society. I'm talking about the peace you feel when you've gathered in the living room with your family, the joy that comes with singing the familiar Christmas tunes that return to the radio like old friends, the unity that rises when you exchange holiday greetings with random passersby.

That's why God gave the Israelites festivals in the Old Testament, such as the Passover--to serve as a reminder, of both His goodness in the past and His promises for the future. To inspire them to keep pressing on, regardless of the twists and turns on this rollercoaster of life. And in Christmas, God has given us this opportunity, also--to remember the beauty of the life He has called us to.

Dear God,

I want to be alive again. I feel as if I broke my wings, tumbled down into a ditch too deep to climb, just as I was finally beginning to learn how to fly. Staring up at this same patch of blue sky, I remember what it tasted like, those few moments of soaring, Your body cradled under mine to keep me aloft.

I can still hear You. I know You have not deserted me here. I have even felt you, rising in me like a flood, curling my mouth into unexpected laughter. I know I am not alone.

But I don't understand why, Daddy. I don't understand what You are teaching me. Am I missing it? Do I wait or move? I have been waiting for so long. I do not know what I am waiting for, but it is all I know to do. Is it wrong? Should I be moving? Where, God? I want to be where You are. So where are You?

You promised to tell me. You said, "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it,'" (Isaiah 30:21). That is why I know I do not have to be afraid. That is why, when the weight of the world crushes my frail shoulders, I think of Your face and the burden is lighter, the burden is not even there at all.

I am still learning to ignore my reality and live in Your truth. To be honest, I'm not very good at it, yet. My feelings are strong and used to getting their way, and now that they are too-often jaded and frightened, they mostly fight against me instead of for me.

Change my heart, Lord. Clean out the doubts and the cynicism, the fear and the complacency. I want to love You with all of me. Please, God. Bring me back to life.

The Most Beautiful Song.

"The LORD your God is with you,
     he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
     he will quiet you with his love,
     he will rejoice over you with singing."
                                         -Zephaniah 3:17

If this doesn't bring a smile to your heart, if peace is not seeping through your bones, you missed something. Go back and read that verse again.

Shhh. Put away the distractions for a second. Focus in on what God wants to say to you right now. He is speaking, dear one. Read the verse again and listen. Turn off the computer if you have to, pull out your Bible and find these words tucked away in the Old Testament, this beautiful promise of intimacy from God.

Listen, beloved. Listen. Do you hear Him singing over you?

This is One Roller-Coaster Ride I Haven't Missed.

My first mistake was to assume the pain I felt came solely as a result of the Enemy's attacks. No, I wasn't completely off; any sign of vulnerability or weakness on our part, and Satan will most definitely attempt to exploit it. Still, the past few days, when his attacks began to come on strong, I thought my job was merely to defend. To put up the shield and wait for the pounding to stop.

But last night, God spoke to me in a moment of stillness. He impressed thoughts upon me, thoughts like, Do you know where this pain is coming from, Daughter? This pain is from old wounds. Wounds that are now being given the opportunity to heal. Healing in itself is a painful process. It is your choice where you go from here. You can relive the past. Or you can be healed from it.

And it gave me such freedom. In that moment, I suddenly realized (well, remembered) that I wasn't doomed to repeat the past. I don't have to relive the same cycle of pain, just because certain circumstances in my life today parallel circumstances in my past that scarred me. I am being given a new day. I am being given the chance to do things the right way, to take what I have learned in the past and use it in the present, to trust God and keep Him at the center of my life when before I allowed myself to be distracted, caught up in my own insecurities.

I feel I am on the brink of a change too big and strange for me to even believe. I am not trying to be vague, but I hardly understand myself, yet. I don't know what it looks like. I only know it is something beautiful. That's what brought the smile to my face last night, with no one but God around to see. Because the circumstances don't matter anymore. I don't have to worry about the future, agonize over other people's choices and how they will affect me, encase my emotions in a bullet-proof wall to keep them safe. Whatever happens next, God is ready to transform into something great.

The circumstances that once turned you into a wreck will now reveal My power in you. Just keep your eyes on Me, dear one. That's what He's trying to say, I think. That's the best way I can explain it. And it gives me confidence. It gives me the strength to fight the Enemy all the more. My God has given me the opportunity for a different ending, a better one. And I'm going to fight for it.

I share this for two reasons. The first is for myself. To help me remember, because I am so quick to forget things, even the very words of God. The second is, I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this. These cyclic struggles, circumstances that crop up again and again, issues that Satan continues to bring up relentlessly, sometimes daily. Others don't reappear for years--but when it does reappear, you remember it at once, and the old pain returns. If you can identify with this at all, I believe God wants you to know something. He wants you to know that there is a better ending for you. And it's worth fighting for.

Sought, Pursued, Beloved.

We use a lot of terminology in the Christian church that has to do with pursuing God. "Running after" Him, "seeking" Him, "chasing" Him, "fighting for" Him. Which are all beautiful and true images, in their appropriate context.

But I get tired. I love God, I love Him the very best way that I know how, but I get tired, running after Him all the time. That was why I felt such relief, such immense, trembling relief, when someone once said to me: "All this time, you thought you were chasing after God. But you're wrong. God has been chasing you." 

It's there. At the very heart of our Bible, it's there. The story of a God who is passionately pursuing His people. A God who says, "Therefore I am going to allure [Israel, My chosen people, the Church]; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her," a God who whispers to us, "Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me," a God who assures us, "[I] will fight for you; you need only be still," (Hosea 2:14; Song of Songs 2:13; Exodus 14:14).

The only reason we have the desire to seek Him is because He sought us first. The only reason we can even attempt to love is because He loved us first. He is not running away from us, He is not hiding in the shadows, laughing as we wander around in circles crying out to Him in desperation. He longs to be with us. That's why He promises when we seek Him with all our hearts, He will be found. Because that's what He's wanted all along.

It's always been God. He is the Initiator, the Pursuer, the Lover. He is the one who searched for us and found us when we were lost in the darkness, cradling us to His breast even as we bleated and kicked, scrambling to get away. He's the one who takes us back, again and again, after we have thrown our lives away to money and other people's opinions and a thousand other trivialities.

Isn't it a comfort? To know that, on those days we feel like we just don't have the strength to pursue God, He's already got us in His hands. To know that we don't have to be "good enough". And what's more, to know that God has made us worth pursuing! God looked down from heaven and chose us. Looked down and said, "You are worth fighting for." We are worth it because God is willing to do whatever it takes. So no matter what belittling lies Satan tries to come against us with, there is nothing he can do to lessen our immeasurable worth in the eyes of the One who paid the ultimate price for our souls.

Rest in that, beloved. Don't give up, because God hasn't. He won't stop chasing after you.

Barefootedness is Next to Godliness.

Really, it all started for the sake of comfort. Around the time when worship started to move me. I mean, literally move me. I used to be content standing still when I sang to God, but I find that almost impossible now. Also, though I know it's not necessary, I tend to dress up for church on Sunday mornings, and that occasionally means wearing heels. Heels are not comfortable at the best of times--and neither standing nor swaying to music would I consider to be the best of times. So one day, I simply slipped my shoes off before we stood to sing. In fact, I kept them off the entire service, including when I went down the aisle to the altar to pray.

I'm not sure how many times I did this before the thought occurred to me. And by "the thought occurred to me", I mean that God reached His hand down and waved it in front of my face, probably saying something along the lines of, "Hellooooo? Yeah, it's Me. God. Pay attention. I have something beautiful to tell you." The thought He gave me was of Moses, and his encounter with a certain fiery bush, and a certain God who spoke these words from inside it: "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground," (Exodus 3:5).

Not gonna lie. I thought it was pretty cool, knowing I had a bare-footed buddy right there in the Bible. And I felt that wonderful and terrifying shiver of awe when God whispered to me, in the midst of the music and the noise: The place where you are standing is holy ground.

And it's true, isn't it? As a people made holy by the Spirit living in us, every step we tread is made upon holy ground. This is not to say that I walk around barefoot everywhere, because I don't. But every time I do slip my shoes off before coming into His Presence in worship, it reminds me of that holiness. It reminds me of how big He is, how beautiful. It makes me forget to breathe for a second. The God who molded the universe in His hands is here. Maybe we can't comprehend it, but I think we should try more often. Because I believe, if we got just a tiny glimpse of that flame, our world would never be the same.

Oh, Me of Little Faith.

"Ask God to work faith in you, or you will remain forever without faith, no matter what you wish, say, or can do." -Martin Luther.

One of my life prayers is: "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" It comes from Mark 9:24, from a man who is pleading with Jesus to save his son from an evil spirit.

I love this story. I love it because, it is totally something I would say. Everyone else Jesus encounters exclaims, "Yes, I believe! Yes, I have faith!" Jesus is pleased with their faith, and He grants their desire.

But this guy, he's struggling with some serious doubt. He wants to believe. He's trying so hard. He believes a little, but he is not sure if it is enough. He is not only begging for a healing; he is begging for the faith to believe that healing will come.

When I read this story, I see myself. I am the doubter. I try to shrug it off by saying that it is myself I am doubting, not God. But since God said that His Spirit lives in me, and I can do all things through Him, then by doubting myself, I am doubting Him. I am saying that my weakness is greater than His strength, my fears are greater than His grace. How messed up is that?

That is why I pray this prayer. Because I want to believe. I say I believe, but I still lack the faith to step out of the boat, regardless of how many inspiring sermons I hear telling me to do so. I know I'm supposed to trust God, I know I'm supposed to step out of my comfort zone, I know, I know, I know. I just don't know how. I don't know how to make myself believe.

It has a lot to do with remembering, I think. Remembering how God has moved in the past, the promises He's made, how awesome He is. Spending time with Him. It's all basic stuff, really. The trouble is, I'm an expert forgetter. I'm like the Israelites, whining about how thirsty I am right after I watched God part the Red Sea for me.

I can beat myself up over it (I often do), but that doesn't actually help. So instead, I do my best to pray the prayer, I do my best to believe. I want so badly to have more faith. But what can I do?

Not much. That is the truth I have to be reminded of, over and over again. Faith comes from God. I'm not strong enough to believe on my own. I'm not even strong enough to want to believe on my own. God did this on purpose. He knows how easily I make everything about myself, when He wants me to forget about myself and depend on Him. So, He allowed me this weakness (among many others, I assure you). A weakness which can only be transformed to strength by His grace.

But back to the story. Remember? The father, struggling with doubt, begging for Jesus to heal his son? The man cries, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" And do you know what Jesus does? He helps the man overcome his unbelief. By healing his son.

One Day in December.

Originally written December 16, 2010.

It was one of those days when the weather was perfect, which only happens once or twice a year in Southern Georgia. This time, it happened to be in December. The sixteenth, to be exact. I sat on our front porch swing, my right foot propped up on the seat’s edge, my left pushing against the earth heel-to-toe, gently propelling me forward. My body fell into the rhythm of a heartbeat. I sipped the hot tea, from the mug I had specially chosen--the snowmen and Christmas trees reflected my holiday mood. The windchimes sang with the breeze, and I closed my eyes. Sunbeams flashed gold and orange like autumn leaves through my eyelids. It occurred to me then why God chose to rest on the seventh day of creation. Not because He had to, but because rest was such a beautiful thing. For a moment I wished I had brought out a notebook to write my thoughts in because of the beautiful thoughts I was having. Then I was glad I hadn’t. I was glad to simply rest, to simply be. I could just feel without worrying about capturing the feeling with words. As I writer, I was constantly trying to fit my life into words. But now, as I rocked back and forth in winter’s pale sunlight, I could simply live.

Women are Crazy; Men are Jerks.

I was at a Christian camp when I was informed that there was only one thing to keep in mind in regards to the opposite sex. Men: all women are crazy. Women: all men are jerks. That is what the speaker told us, anyway. Apparently this knowledge was supposed to save us from a lot of heartbreak or something.

I'm not sure exactly when I took up arms in the war of Man vs. Woman that has been raging ever since Adam blamed his fall on Eve. But clearly I must have, because I catch myself saying things such as "Men are dumb; we should throw rocks at them", "Men are scumbags", "Men are [insert negative gender stereotypical blanket statement here]". You get the idea. And when I see the amount of girls' Facebook statuses that are anti-men, I know that I am not alone. Since when have men become the enemy?

Ironically, my musings on this subject were actually instigated by my attack on such a perceived enemy just last night, when I saw a guy's facebook status that read as follows: "has done laundry, cleaned the house and made my meals today. I feel like a woman. As long I dont get moody, indecisive, complain about everything and have sex with some dude that doesnt respect me because I'm scared of being alone I should be alright". After I read it, I was absolutely furious, and retorted to the comment sharply and sarcastically--perhaps with more anger and less thought than I should have.

I went to bed shortly thereafter, but I was too upset to sleep. His comment had been so sexist, so degrading towards women. And people had liked the comment, some of them being girls. Do we really respect ourselves so little?, I wondered. We are daughters of God, and we deserve better.

But the more I thought about it, the more the Spirit began to convict me. Because men are God's creation just as much as women are. They are His sons every bit as much as women are His daughters. And all my past (and present) mindless rantings against men were just as bad as what this particular guy had said against women. Sexism runs both ways. Yes, the daughters of God deserve better. So do His sons.

Which made me incredibly sad. Isn't it just like Satan, to take a relationship that God created to hold such beauty and goodness--men and women, partnering together, encouraging each other, bringing strength to the other's weakness--and instead, pitting men and women against each other, causing us to see each other as enemies? How God must weep when He sees how men and women war against each other, when He first created woman as the answer to man's lonliness (Gen. 2:18)! Warring against each other, when we should be uniting in war against our true Enemy, the one who deceived us from the very beginning.

So men, I am sorry. I am sorry for my cynicsm towards you. I am sorry for bashing you when I should be building you up. I am sorry for expecting the worst of you when I should be praying for the best. I am sorry for describing you with blanket statements when I should be getting to know you as individuals. I am sorry for hating you for your sexism without any regard for my own.

My dear brothers, I don't want to fight you any more. I will continue fighting the lies that have made us enemies for as long as I live, but by the grace of God, I will not fight you. But I will fight with you. Together, as God intended. We are both imperfect human beings, but we are also both made new in the blood of Jesus. And in His kingdom, there is no male or female--there is only Christ (Gal. 3:26-29).

"I Love Them More."

When I am praying for a loved one who is in a bad situation, it hurts. Physical pain, tearing at the pit of my stomach. I feel pain for what they are going through, I take their burdens upon myself and can feel their tangible weight, and sometimes, even in the midst of prayer, I feel so helpless, I don't know what to do.

But when I reach this point of distress, God often takes the time to remind me: "I love them more than you." This always stirs great wonder in me, especially when I am hurting very much for them and cannot understand why God would allow them to go through so much pain. But I know His words are true; I can feel it in the depths of my soul when He speaks quietly to my panic: God loves the people I pray for more than I do. I can trust Him with their circumstance, with their pain, with their very self.

And when I sit back and think about it, it makes me realize how very big is the God we serve. If my heart is breaking for this single person, how much more is His heart, which loves so much more than my own. And His love is not directed toward only this single person, but toward the entire world. Only a God of infinite strength could endure such pain that must inevitably come from loving a people so broken, living in a world so imperfect. And only a God of infinite love would take that pain upon Himself in a sacrifice unto death, that we would be set free.

For the Love of God, Shut Up About the Carpet Color.

I find the existence of denominations in the Christian Church--however inevitable the emergence of those denominations appears to be--incredibly sad. It causes brothers and sisters in the faith to create divisive labels,  as we identify ourselves as a "Baptist" or "Catholic" or "Pentecostal" rather than as a Christian. We begin to follow a theology rather than following Christ, and hold so tight to the words of our specific doctrine that we close our minds off to everything else, even the very words the Holy Spirit may be speaking to us.

You know what I've realized? Every one of our denominations is flawed. None of us has the perfect picture. None of us have all the answers. The Word of God makes this clear in 1 Corinthians 13:12, "Now we see a dim reflection, as if we were looking into a mirror, but then we shall see clearly. Now I know only a part, but then I will know fully, as God has known me."

But we do have some answers, bits and pieces of the puzzle that have revealed to us by the Spirit. Every denomination has its weaknesses, but it also has its strengths. Don't you think we could learn something from each other? What if we all came together, as brothers and sisters in Christ, sharing our opinions with open hearts and open minds, agreeing to disagree about the little things, the petty things? How powerful would that be, if we all truly united as one Body, the way God intended His Church, His Bride, to be?

It seems impossible, but as children of God, the impossible is what we are called to. We have to let go of our need to "be right" all the time, humble ourselves and admit that we don't have all the answers, and that's okay. What we do know is that, above all else, our God has called us to love, the way He loves, for "Knowledge puffs you up with pride, but love builds up," (1 Corinthians 8:1). God does not call us to be a people who knows everything; He calls us to be a people who loves.

Because Today, I Don't Feel Like Writing.

Tonight, I don't really have anything to write. Fresh out of inspiration. To be honest, after writing eleven pages of my novel today, I just don't feel like writing at the moment. Is that okay? Will you worship with me instead?

This song came on my Pandora radio station just a few minutes ago. And I thought it was such a beautiful, powerful song, to sing to our Jesus. So take a moment, let go of the distractions. Whatever it takes for these five minutes. Listen to the words. Let the music move you. In Spirit, and in truth.

The Truth About Love (Dare You to Read It All).

Originally written July 30, 2009. 

I used to wonder why those romance movies were all the same. How two lovers endured through trials and struggles to be together, and then lived happily ever after, made complete in each other. Why do our hearts yearn for that kind of love to be true? 

The answer is: because we were created for that kind of love. The problem came when we took that fairy-tale to the world and asked for fulfillment, instead of taking it to God, the Lover of our souls, who was the only fulfillment. And I hear girls sigh as they long for such romance, and I watch girls grow bitter as their hearts break time after time, the world screaming at them: the stories are all make-believe; there is no fairy-tale for you. And I see girls, beautiful girls, settle for cheap experiences and cheap imitations of this thing called love, because they no longer believe they are worthy of anything more. 

Beloved, you have listened to the lies of the enemy for too long. You walk around in sackcloth, when God longs to clothe you in white. You walk around weeping, when God longs to put a smile on your face. You walk alone, when God longs to pick you up in His arms and carry you. You strive, you strive, you strive, because you believe the lie that you are not worthy to be loved, and somewhere deep in your heart you think if I can just be good enough, then I will be worth loving. My sisters, I plead with you, open your eyes! God is ready to pour out bucketloads of His love and peace and and joy and freedom! All you have to do is lower your walls of unbelief. Believe the truth, beloved. The truth is: You are beautiful. You are loved. You are a glorious bride. You are a daughter of the King. To believe anything else about yourself is to call God a liar. To believe anything else about yourself is to settle for less than your destiny. 

If you have not had an encounter with Truth before, I pray it over each one of you. Because these words alone are not enough. But the power of Truth and Love stands behind these words, and I know that power is enough to break down any barrier, break away any chains--for that power comes from God. He is Love, and His word is Truth. With that power I write these words, with that power I pray over you. 

I call out to you as a sister who has experienced that power and been changed by it. I call out to you as a girl who believes in fairy-tales again. I call out to you as a woman who has decided that it’s worth the risk to say: Yes, I am beautiful. Yes, I am royalty. Yes, I am loved. Yes, I am significant. No, not because I worked hard enough and finally reached the goal. I am all those things because I came to my Daddy-King as a dirty mess, and He cleaned me up and made me holy and called me His own. Then He spoke the truth over me. He told me I was beautiful, royal, loved, a world-changer. For a long time, I didn’t believe Him. But after years of striving, I finally stopped, got on my knees, and cried out to Him. And this time, when He told me how much He loved me, I said, “Okay, Daddy. I believe You.” Then I crawled into His lap, and I’ve been resting there ever since. Sometimes the old ways of thinking come back, sometimes for a few moments I clamber down again and try to wade through the muck of life in my own strength. But then I remember who I am. And my laughter bubbles over, for my Prince Charming loves me with a Love that moves mountains and turns back death. I know my happily ever after has already been won. So I rest again, secure in His promise. Call me crazy, or naive. But I have tasted and seen the goodness of His love, and I refuse to turn back. I am so thankful that I have found my fairy-tale...yet my heart hurts for so many who are missing theirs. 

Don't you see? This promise is for you! Believe the truth, precious one. With God, the impossible is made possible. Dreams do come true. There is such a thing as true love. Come Beloved, with the child-like faith that the world could never quite bury. Your fairy-tale is waiting for you. 

And suddenly she smiled. Because for the first time in her life, she silenced the lies, and in the stillness heard her Father whisper the only truth there ever was: “Beloved, you are beautiful.” 

Who? He Is.

We have many names for God, many words we use to describe Him. In fact, I'll bet that if we sat down to write a list, we could continue on into eternity. Infinite names for an infinite God, for no one name can truly describe Him.

But out of all God's names, the one I find to be the most fascinating is that which He ascribed to Himself as He spoke to a trembling man from a burning bush: I AM (Exodus 3:14). Is that not the most comforting name for our Father to have? He is who He is. Yesterday, today, forever. Regardless of our belief in Him or our misconceptions about Him, He is who He is. He does not change His nature to suit our culture, or to fit more easily into our finite minds. He doesn't need an explanation, He doesn't need to be defended. He simply is. Not was, not will be. Is. He is. Forever and always.

Think, Think, Think.

I think God misses us, most days. I think we have a tendency to neglect Him, to get lost in the busyness, in all the things we have to do, in all the things that need to get done, in all the things hanging over our heads, in all the things tugging under our feet, in all the things, things, things.

I think we are too proud of the ten minutes we give Him, the fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes we give Him, most of which are spent still worrying about all the things, complaining to Him about all the things. I think after we check our "devotional time" off our list and rush off to all the things, God stays, standing in the empty room with His hands outstretched as the door slams and our footsteps fade away, pleading, Just five more minutes, my son, Just five more minutes, my daughter, Just five more minutes, my beloved. Please, just five more minutes with you.


I think if we would stay five more minutes and listen, we would fall in love with Him and never want to leave. I think all the other things would grow smaller, and He would grow larger in our eyes. I think we would have more time to breathe, to think, to laugh, to love. I think the world would be more beautiful, I think our hearts would be more beautiful.

I think it would make God happy, I think it would make us happy, if we stayed just a little longer. I think I don't have exactly the right words to explain it, but I think the ones I have written are true.

My Plea? Not Guilty.

It's kind of ridiculous how quickly guilt can overtake me. In fact, the best way to manipulate me is by making me feel guilty (unless you happen to hit my stubborn streak in the process, in which case you may as well give up). This complex has caused me to have great difficulty in saying "no", the mentality that I have to try and make everyone happy, and an abhorrence for ever inconveniencing anyone. And probably a host of other issues as well--but I digress.

Unfortunately, using guilt as a form of manipulation within the Church is all too common, a practice that is both unhealthy and un-Biblical. Guilt tells us that we are failures, that we aren't good enough, holds the checklist of the law in front of our faces and declares us unworthy. I believe guilt is what Paul is referring to as "worldly sorrow" in 2 Corinthians 7:9-10:

"I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death." 

So if worldly sorrow is guilt, what is godly sorrow? The term I would use is conviction, and it comes not from the world, but from the Holy Spirit living inside us. Conviction lets us know that our actions do not line up with our Father's character (and thus, our character, as His children) and causes us to repent, to change, to conform to the image of Christ. But it is essential to understand that conviction, or "godly sorrow", leaves no regret. In other words, the mistakes we made do not continue to haunt us, our past does not continue to plague us.

Guilt, however, brings death. It traps us in our old identity, keeping us from moving forward into our new lives in Christ. It reminds us of who we were, instead of encouraging us in who we are. We become so obsessed with looking back, we stop straining toward the hope that lies ahead. Guilt keeps us from experiencing the truth reiterated over and over in the New Testament: "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death," (Romans 8:1-2).

We have been made new. We have been set free. To live in guilt is to deny the gift God has given us. Your past has been washed in the blood of Jesus. Let it go; after all, God already has.

To the Best Dad in the Whole World:

Happy Father's Day, God! I just wanted to tell You, especially since today is a day to celebrate our dads, how much I love You and how happy I am to be Your daughter. I even thought about getting You one of those singing cards, or one of the funny ones with a penguin on the front, but I figured You would rather have my heart. So I'm giving it to You, again. I know I have given it to You many times, and sometimes I take pieces of it back because I am afraid or selfish. And I'm sorry. I want You to have all of my heart, Daddy. 

I also wanted to say thank you, because that is another good thing about Father's Day--it reminds us to remember and appreciate everything our dads have done for us. So thanks for everything, Dad. For dancing with me and singing over me and carrying me on Your shoulders and giving me hugs and showering me with gifts and holding my hand and telling me I'm beautiful. Thanks for loving me more than anyone else ever has or will, and for teaching me to love my brothers and sisters and neighbors the way You do. When I grow up, I want to be just like You!  

Love, Your Daughter, Alyssa :) 

P.S. Since I didn't get You a singing card, I decided I should at least get you a song:  

Past Discoveries & Bathroom Ponderings.

Originally written January 17, 2009.

It was a cycle, you see. Over and over again as you look at the Old Testament: the Israelites would turn away from God; God would withdraw His protection and allow some other nation to conquer and oppress them; the Israelites would cry out to God for help; God, in all His grace and mercy and love, would reach down to rescue them. Why did this keep happening? Why didn't the Israelites learn their lesson? They knew the history. They knew what had happened before and what would happen again. I think the answer lies in Judges 4:3. "Because he had nine hundred chariots and had cruelly oppressed the Israelites for twenty years, they cried to the LORD for help." They did not cry out to God because they saw their sin and realized what they were doing was wrong. They cried out to God because they were suffering, and they wanted a way out. There was no true repentance in their hearts, no true desire to seek after God. We see this situation described for us in Psalm 106:34-46.


We oftentimes look at the past of the Israelites and wonder what in the world they were thinking. It seemed as soon as God had saved them, they went right back into their rebellious practices. And yet, do we not do the same thing? Return to our sins, return to the dirt and filth that God sought to cleanse us from? Our Father knew this from the beginning. He knew that the blood of every lamb upon the earth would not be enough to redeem our fickle hearts. For every lamb that was slaughtered, another sin would be committed. How could such a cycle be broken? There was only one answer. There was only one Lamb whose blood was precious enough to atone for every sin ever committed and every sin that ever would be committed by every person ever to walk the face of the earth. That Lamb was the Son of God. His name was Jesus. He paid the price, once and for all. For all those who were truly repentant, those who had a true desire to seek after God. Those who accepted His sacrifice have been made new.

And that causes me to wonder. We are not bound to the fate of the Israelites in the Old Testament, for we have been given a new covenant. We are no longer under the law, we are no longer under condemnation. When we are washed in the blood of the Lamb, we no longer live a life of defeat, but a life of victory. So my question is: why are God's people still living in defeat? Why do we continue to live as though we are fighting a losing battle? The cycle has been broken! We are no longer slaves to our sinful nature. All fear, all inadequacy, all guilt, all despair, all darkness has been vanquished in His name. Is that not a glorious truth? This is freedom I speak of! Yet we do not live in it. We are content to live our lives as though we are struggling just to make it through, when our Father has offered rest for the weary. We are content to pity our shattered hearts, when our Father has offered healing for the broken. We are content to cower beneath the gaze of the rest of the world, when our Father has offered His authority and power to His beloved children to overcome the world. Yes, we are weak. But I believe His grace is more than sufficient. Stand upon the love of our God, the truth of His promises, the Rock that will never be shaken.

Jesus said in John 16:33, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." So take heart, beloved of God. Fall in love with your Savior once again. Rejoice in His amazing, incomprehensible love! I know that is what I am being reminded to do. Life doesn't always make sense to me. But when I sit at the feet of the King, and feel His Presence wash over me—that makes perfect sense. I will take heart, for I know my God is here.

Advice for Introverts & Gardeners.

Confession: I've had a lot of trouble figuring out how to be an introvert in the Kingdom of God. Being called to go out and change the world and whatnot is quite a daunting task when you're really much more comfortable being invisible.

When I ask God to "change" me, mostly what I'm secretly hoping for is a personality transplant. You know, I want Him to go poof! and suddenly I am a very courageous, outgoing person who can stand in front of a huge crowd and tell them about Jesus--it doesn't even have to be a huge crowd really, a small one will do. I want to have this confidence that makes my thoughts quiet enough so I can speak without stumbling and make plans without second-guessing myself. And I could go to another country, even if they didn't speak my language, because I would just be so charismatic and loving and God would shine through me, and I would know that I was investing my talents, and I would be able to hand them over to God and say, look God, see how I've multiplied the gifts You've given me! 

It's always made me uneasy. The story of the talents, that is (see Matt. 25:14-30). Because that last guy, the one with only one talent, reminds me of myself--which is incredibly terrifying, since at the end of the story he is thrown out into the weeping, gnashing darkness (v.30). Why? Because he told his master this: "I was afraid and hid your talent in the ground," (v.25). Which sounds frighteningly like a response I would give. If there is one single thing that keeps me from something I could or should be doing, it is fear.

I could go on about this subject for a long time. Probably a few hundred pages, if I was feeling really ambitious. Fear versus faith and all that, how God tells us over and over again to stop being afraid, that the Spirit that lives inside us is bigger than fear, that He is the strength in our weakness, and really if we just quit whining and would look to Him and hold His hand, everything would turn out okay. But I think that would be a bit much to expound on, here.

So back to the story of the talents. Basically, God told me--or is in the process of telling me, to be more accurate, because it takes me quite awhile to learn these things, and He has to repeat Himself a lot--to stop asking for other people's talents when He's already given me my own. I am an introvert, and He's not going to magically change that just so it's easier for me to talk to people. Yes, I may have to stretch out of my comfort zone at times, or even most of the time, but I will be fine because His strength is made perfect in my weakness; and really, if it was my strength, I'd probably become so inflated with pride that I would get in the way of God's glory, and it would just be a big mess.

I began writing this blog because this is my talent. One of them, at least. God told me to do this, and so I am doing it, and I have no idea what the return will be. I don't know where these words will go. Maybe they will simply stay right here, truths rushing back to strengthen my heart even as I pour them out. Which is good, and enough, even when my selfish side insists that it would be cooler to stand in front of a bunch of people and have 3,000 of them get saved at once. But God tells me not to worry about it, that He is the one who makes things grow. He only asks us to plant the seeds, and it's okay if we start with the small ones.

That's how He likes to start, too. With small people like me, and you, because He loves to make things grow. And that makes me very glad.

Jacob's God.

Last Sunday in church, we sang the song "Give Us Clean Hands". As we did, I started thinking about the lyrics, especially the last half of the chorus:

"Oh, God let us be a generation that seeks, that seeks Your face, O God of Jacob."  

It used to bother me when stuff was phrased like that--God of Jacob, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, etc. It seemed impersonal to me. It seemed odd to say the "God of so and so" when He was my God. But as I began to understand more and more the beauty of Old Testament Israel being equivalent to the New Testament Church--they were God's chosen people, the people of His promise, just as we are, making them our brothers and sisters--I opened up my mind a bit more to the connection between myself and the forefathers of the Old Testament.

So, I started thinking deeper. Why did this song say God of Jacob, exactly? Why not Abraham? Because two syllables fit better in the song than three?

These questions got me thinking about who Jacob was. The name "Jacob" means "deceiver"--not the best of names, to be sure, especially in the Old Testament culture, when your name was basically synonymous your identity. And if you've read about Jacob's dealings with his twin brother, Esau, you'd discover that his namesake was quite an accurate one.

But that is not the whole story. The most beautiful part is that Jacob's name changed. He wrestled with God for a blessing, and God told him, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel ["He struggles with God"], because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome," (Gen. 32:28). And not only did Jacob's name change after this radical encounter with God; his walk changed. God wrenched Jacob's hip out of its socket during their tussle, causing him to walk with a limp (Gen. 32:25, 31).

Great story, but what does it have to do with this worship song? Just what are we asking God when we plead "Let us be a generation that seeks Your face, O God of Jacob"?

Our generation has many names, and none that I've heard are very flattering. Selfish, Materialistic, Ungrateful, just to name a few. But what if God, the God of Jacob, the God who changes things, even our very identity--what if God gave our generation a new name? What if we sought God, wrestled with Him the way Jacob did, crying out God we refuse leave Your Presence until we see Your face and are changed! It may be painful. It may mess us up. It may give us a limp that we carry with us the rest of our lives. But I'll bet if we asked Jacob, he'd tell us it is so much more than worth it. For Jacob saw the face of God (Gen. 32:30).

Now, when I sing that song, that is my prayer. God, give this generation a new name. Let us be called the Ones Who Seek Your Face. Mess us up forever in an incredible encounter with You.

And the Verdict?

If there is one thing the Church is known for (excepting, perhaps, our hypocrisy), it's our judgement, particularly towards nonbelievers. And it's really no wonder. I have seen with my own eyes bumper stickers informing non-Christians that their children are going to Hell. This attitude is often initiated early, striking especially hard when we reach our teens, told that if we hang out with anyone who is not a Christian, we will immediately be corrupted and pulled down into the black hole of sin.

To be honest, I much prefer all Jesus' talk about love and mercy to this idea of judging others. So when I find a passage in my Bible that is entitled Expel the Immoral Brother!, it kinda makes me queasy. But it is in the Bible, and I've learned that you can't just skip over the parts that make you uncomfortable. When I read it, however, I discovered something wholly unexpected and beautiful.

I discovered that we have absolutely no right to condemn nonbelievers, or even to disassociate with them. Here, read with me:

"I have written you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people--not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave the world. But now I am writing you that you must not associate with anyone who calls himself a brother but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or a slanderer, a drunkard or a swindler. With such a man do not even eat.

"What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside? God will judge those outside." -1 Cor. 5:9-13 (emphasis added)

So yes, there is a place for our judgement. But it is not for those outside the Church; it is for those within it. In doing this, Paul is advising us not to condone hypocrites--people who claim they know Jesus, but live habitually in a manner that totally contradicts Him. No, not just a Christian who struggles with sin, but supposed Christians who continuously engage in sinful behavior, with no sign of repentance or remorse. For these people are not ignorant to the truth; they know it, and yet spit in its face, slandering the name of Jesus before the whole world (Heb. 10:26-31).

And when we do address sin in the Church, this passage is not saying we do so by ostracizing any Christian who sins. God asks us to deal with His children much more tenderly than that. Rather, "If anyone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens," (Galatians 6:1-2). Notice, it says, "you who are spiritual"; in other words, only those of you who have already removed that two-by-four out of your own eye (Matt. 7:1-5). And when any of our fellow brothers or sisters does repent of sin, we are immediately to "forgive and comfort him [or her]" (2 Cor. 2:7).  

When I thought about this principle of judgement in the larger context of the New Testament, I found it to be, to the best of my knowledge, universally true. Whenever the apostles are giving instructions about what is right, and condemning what is wrong, they are speaking to the Church. And we are never called to deal with it in a way that is cruel and self-righteous, but in a way that reflects the way God has dealt, and continues to deal, with us--out of a heart overflowing with great love and mercy.

Ultimately, God is the only true and perfect judge. I find myself only inexpressibly thankful that ours is a story of incredible mercy, and grace, and a love that covers over a multitude of sins.

Dear God,

I am tired, to be honest. Of waiting. Of living this day-to-day, these motions I know by heart, while the future looms black with uncertainty. I am afraid I will spend my whole life waiting this way, wondering when I'm supposed to move, and where, and how.

You promised, Daddy. You promised that wherever I went, Your voice would follow after me, saying this is My way; walk in it. But I do not know where to go. I am praying and listening hard, and I think I am not doing a very good job of it because I am all twisted up in confusion and uncertainty and fear. God, I do not know where to go. I only feel that if I do not move soon, I will sink.

I want to get away from the noise. These constant distractions, yelling in my eyes and ears, the responsibilities that nettle my brain with persistent cries of something more to do, something more to do, and all I want is some peace. That quiet place, where my thoughts can rest. Where there is nothing more to think about, at least for a time.

I know the answer. I have always been good at knowing the right answer. I know that I should rest in You, because You are the most trustworthy of all, and You are here with me, even now. But how do I get there, God, how do I rest? Teach me how to rest. Teach me how to wait, just a little bit longer. I am sorry I am so selfish. Won't You fill me up with You?

I wish my words were enough to bleed out the feelings. But when they fail, I know You do not. Abba, I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!

Experience the Awesome.

"LORD, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, O LORD. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known." -Habakkuk 3:2

This has been my prayer. One of them, at least--I have many. We serve an awesome God. Many of us have heard about His awesomeness since childhood. We've heard about the miracles God did in the Old Testament, the miracles of Jesus and the early Church in the New Testament. We've sung "Our God is an Awesome God" more times than we can remember. God is awesome. Yes, we've heard.

We've heard that He is a God who moves mountains. No, I'm not just talking metaphorically here. I'm talking about a God who said He would literally pick up a mountain and move it if we had the faith to ask and believe, a God who said "Nothing will be impossible for you," (Matthew 17:20).

We've heard that He is a God who heals. Again, I'm not talking about the figurative side that we tend to emphasize, God "healing your heart", though of course, He does that as well, and in truth it is a far more important and miraculous affair. But we need to recognize that God also heals physically, instantaneously, inexplicably. Jesus did it over and over again while He was here on Earth, and then told His disciples in John 14:12, "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father," (emphasis added).

We've heard that He is a God who parts seas, calms storms, comes in a fire, comes in a cloud, comes in a whisper, makes people fall on their faces, walks on water, opens the eyes of the blind, brings the dead to life, brings water out of rock, rains bread down from heaven, creates galaxies with a single command. And we are His children.

But no matter how many times we are told, the words about His awesomeness will never truly sink in if we do not experience it for ourselves. His mountain-moving, cancer-healing, water-walking, world-creating, mind-blowing, law-defying, box-breaking awesomeness. The American Church is so far away from understanding the weight of His glory. And we are so far away from understanding the epic calling He has placed on are lives as His ambassadors, His children, His vessels of light to a world drowning in the dark.

Dear God, give us the thirst to seek Your face, and the faith to be Your hands. So that one day You may change our prayer, and we will say with Job:

"My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you." -Job 42:5

The Truth About Reality.

"What, you would like to be a bird? Fine then. You are a bird. Though in that case, it inevitably follows that you are also a lie."

I do not believe that truth is relative. I do believe, however, that reality is. Truth is true, it simply is, regardless of whether you believe it to be or not. But reality, what is real to you and the way in which you live as a result, is entirely subjective to your beliefs. The problem is, most people are living in a reality that is totally counter to the truth. And yes, when I say "most people", I am including Christians.

Our Enemy is the father of lies (John 8:44). And unfortunately, we incorporate a great many of those lies into our reality. Lies like, "God only performed miracles back in the days of the early Church" or "You can never truly be free of your past" or "God could never use someone as broken as you" or "God does not have a great destiny for you; you should just go through the motions of day to day life, 'cause this is as good as it's going to get."

But as we live in these false realities that bind us and keep us from all that we are called to as sons and daughters of the King, the truth is crying out. God is crying out. He wants to shatter our realities and invite us to live in His, the only true reality. The reality of who we are as His beloved people, and the freedom and power and peace that comes with it. The reality of who He is, and the faith and joy and love that comes with that.

Our Father has so much that He wants to lavish on us, if only we will seek Him. Not just head knowledge of the truth, or an acknowledgement of it as truth, but experiencing His truth and incorporating it into our lives, founding our reality on it. It is the only foundation that is firm. All else is sinking sand (Matthew 7:24-27).

And how do we know the truth? Jesus gave us a simple answer:

“If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” -John 8:31-32 

Seek Him. Follow Him. He will never lead you astray.

Sing Me to Sleep.

Originally written November 10, 2009.

God spoke to me as I lay in my bed last night. He said, in a voice I felt more than heard:

"You are not a Leah. I did not work, did not die because I loved someone else and you just happened to come with the package. I saw you from the first, beautiful one, and loved you. You do not have to strive to earn my love, you do not have to compete for my affection. You are the bride who has stolen My heart, you are the one I have fought for. Do not live like a Leah when I have called you a Rachel; do not live as one unloved when I have called you beloved."

Then I fell asleep and slept soundly.

*Note: References from Genesis 29:16-28. 

Be Happy, and Know It (Clap, Clap).

One of the most profound moments in my walk with God occurred one night in a church when I was on my knees at the altar, on the breaking point. I was crying out for change, crying out for anything. As He stilled my heart and quieted my thoughts, enveloping me in His presence, I smiled. And He said to me: "I love to see you smile."

When I heard those words, I laughed out loud. And I felt such joy--it was like, with those few words, God was giving me permission to be happy. Weeks later, I would think of that moment, and a grin would spread across my face, a giggle would spill out.

I don't know where I got this idea that I was supposed to be serious, sober...sad even. Maybe it's because the central image of Christianity is a man dying on a cross. Sometimes, I think we focus on that image so much, we neglect to mention the best part: He rose again. He was victorious over sin, over the grave. And as His brothers and sisters, it is our inheritance as well (Luke 8:21; Rom. 8:17). Of course, it is essential that we (attempt to) grasp the sacrifice it was for Jesus to come and die for us. But we cannot forget that its central message is not death, but life.

Or maybe we carry this burdened mentality because we focus so much on the fact that, as Christians, we struggle. We repeat to ourselves over and over Jesus' statement in John 16:33: "In this world you will have trouble." The only problem is, we (often subconsciously) leave out the rest of the verse: "But take heart! I have overcome the world." Sure, we suffer. But if anything, we should be rejoicing in those sufferings (Rom. 5:3; James 1:2). Jesus has already won the ultimate victory, and He has given us the spoils.

Or maybe, after all our talk about the grace of God, somewhere in our hearts we still view Him as a Being who looms over us, ready to punish us at our first mistake. Maybe our warped perspective comes from a million different things. A million lies, a million distortions keeping us from an incredible truth.

God loves to see you smile. He loves to hear you laugh. He loves to watch you dance. He delights in your happiness, as any good Dad would. He created it, after all. In fact, it is a reflection of Himself, for we are made in the image of our Father.

That is not to say that sorrows will not come, or that we will never mourn. But do not give in to the lie that we are bound by these sorrows. We are the sons and daughters of a King who loves us immeasurably, who holds our hearts securely in His hands. What's not to be happy about?

Thank You.

For sunny days. Windchimes. The smell of flowers. A cat's purr. The warm glow of a fire. Hot chocolate on a bitterly cold night. Lightning streaking across the sky. Foggy mornings. Good books. Sunsets. Sunrises. Words that paint pictures. Honest smiles. Christmastime. Snow right after it has fallen. The mountains. The sound of silence. Camping outdoors. Camping in the living room. Roasted marshmallows. The smell of a book. Imagination. Old Disney movies. Fireflies. Snowball fights. Times when I can simply look out the window. Music. Eyes to watch a bird fly. Ice cream cones. The wind blowing my hair in my eyes. New places to visit. Old places to return to. Poetry. Waves to play in at the beach. Waves to listen to on the shore. Porch swings. Hot tea.

For my loved ones. My family, my friends. Their health. Their presence in my life. Their encouragement. Their love. The memories I have with them. The laughter they bring out in me. The tears they've held me through. The faith they build up in me. Their quirks. Our inside jokes. The photographs of us. The advice they have given me. Their hugs. The belief they have in me. The sacrifices they made for my sake. The prayer they pour over me. The time we have spent together.

For Yourself. Your beauty, Your glory, Your grace. Your Son, the spotless Lamb who took my place on the cross. Your Holy Spirit, who made me new, who lives in me and gives me hope. The freedom You gave to me. The knowledge that the pain will pass and the tears will be wiped away. Opening my eyes to Your truth, more and more as I take the time to seek You. The promises You keep. Your strength in my weakness. Your holiness. The songs You sing over me. The plans You have for me. Sheltering me beneath Your wings. Answered prayers. Growing my faith. Exploding out of the box I tried to keep You in. Messing me up. Choosing me as Your beloved daughter. Your unreserved, unconditional, eternal love. All the incredible things that are yet to come.

Thank You, God, for every blessing You pour out, though they are far too many to name. May I always turn them back to praise. LORD, blessed be Your name.

I Had a Dream.

The night before last, I had a dream (which, I'm sure, after reading the title of this post, you're shocked to discover). I don't remember the context of the dream, or even very many of the details.

What I do remember: I was in a room full of people. Some I recognized, some I didn't. Some whom I knew were Christians, others whom I knew were not. And I was yelling at the top of my lungs. I don't recall exactly what I was saying, but it was something to the effect of: WHY AREN'T YOU PEOPLE LISTENING? CAN'T YOU HEAR ME CRYING OUT? DON'T YOU SEE THAT I'M FALLING APART? But I was, for whatever reason, invisible. The people around me were oblivious to my desperation.

Ironically, when someone did finally take notice of me and begin talking to me, it was someone that I recognized, and I am (almost) certain that this person does not know Christ. Of all the people in that room, this was the one who reached out to me.

God distinctly revealed to me the spiritual nature of the dream while I was still within it, and I was floored. How many people around us are crying out, screaming in desperation, begging anyone to listen? Not with their literal voice, but with their eyes, their body language, their Facebook statuses? How many people do we ignore every day because we are wrapped up in our on little world? How many people do we push aside because our own proud, self-righteous judgments against them?

And the fact that it was an unsaved person who reached out to me in the dream is probably accurate. We Christians are so afraid of getting our hands "dirty". We stay in our church buildings and perform our church activities with other church people, condemning the very people we should be out loving. The Church is not famous for her love; she is famous for her judgement and hypocrisy.

Dear children, open your eyes. People are hurting right outside your doorstep. And you have the Spirit of God, of Love itself, at your disposal, the Spirit that longs to heal the wounded, restore the broken, lift up the faces of the downtrodden. Just like He did for us, not so very long ago. And now he calls us. To be His hands. To be His feet.

Even Better Than a Zombie.

Twenty-one years ago today, I took my first breath. Oxygen into my screaming infant-lungs. Although it is too far-gone from my memory now, I imagine it was not the best of awakenings, entering into this broken world.

My birth into the Holy Spirit was an altogether different experience, though in some ways, it was just as painful. I'm not talking about when I was saved, but when God began to reveal to me what it truly looked like to live in His Spirit. He had made me a new creature, but I was not living in that reality. In many ways spiritually speaking, it was as if I were still dead. Dead in my apathy, my complacency. And to be perfectly honest, it is something I continue to struggle with.

I don't think my experience is an isolated one as a Christian in America today. This plague that struck the churches even in the New Testament haunts us as well, perhaps even to a greater degree:

"Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." -Ephesians 5:14 

 "You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up!" -Revelation 3:2  

But in the past couple years, I have felt a stirring, in my own heart and the hearts of those around me. A stirring that sounds like sleepers awakening, the dead rising, the dawn coming. The Spirit of God is moving, pouring breath into the lungs of the children who are hungry for Him. I have found no more beautiful picture to illustrate this in Scripture than the following vision of the Old Testament prophet, Ezekiel:

"The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the LORD and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, 'Son of man, can these bones live?'

"I said, 'O Sovereign LORD, you alone know.'

"Then he said to me, 'Prophesy to these bones and say to them, "Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! This is what the Sovereign LORD says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the LORD."'

 "So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. 

 "Then he said to me, 'Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, "This is what the Sovereign LORD says: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live."' So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet--a vast army. 

"Then he said to me: 'Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel [the chosen people of God, i.e. the church]. They say, "Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off." Therefore prophesy and say to them: "This is what the Sovereign LORD says: O my people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel [our promised inheritance]. Then you, my people, will know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the LORD have spoken, and I have done it, declares the LORD."'" -Ezekiel 37:1-14 (emphasis added)

 Holy Spirit, come. Your people are ready to be made new.

Party Time.

I was actually going to write about an entirely different topic today, but I stumbled across this passage and knew I couldn't move on without sharing:

"You have not come to a mountain that can be touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded: 'If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned.' The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, 'I am trembling with fear.'

"But you have come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the judge of all men, to the spirits of righteous men made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel." -Hebrews 12:18-24

WHOA. If those verses had no effect on you, you'd better read them again. Slowly. Don't worry, the rest of your life can wait for a few more minutes. These words are profound, life-changing. Drink them in.

This passage is contrasting two covenants: the old (established under Moses) and the new (established under Jesus). The old covenant was that of the law. It was a time when the people of God were separated from Him by a thick, heavy curtain. The people could not touch the mountain where the tangible presence of God had descended, for it was holy, and they would surely die (Exodus 19:12-13).

But we are under the new covenant. The covenant of grace. We now have direct access to His presence. We have died and been made new, granted access to the holy of holies through the sacrifice of the most perfect Lamb. His presence is no longer a place of fear but a place of joy, of celebration. We are the "church of the firstborn", and as such are given a firstborn's inheritance--the best that the Father has to offer, a share in His eternal kingdom.

We have come, not to the old covenant, but to the new. Not to Mount Sinai, but to Mount Zion. Not to the law, but to grace. Not to rules, but to freedom. Not to fear and trembling, but to intimacy and joy. So sing, dance, make a joyful noise! Join the celebration of "thousands upon thousands of angels" as we praise our God for the glorious love He has lavished on His children.

 

Out of the Box.

Before we begin, I'd like you to pull out your box of theology. Whether it's under your chair or in your attic, whether it's big or small, whether it's opened everyday or wilting under a layer of dust, I want you to bring it out where you can see it. Look at it, analyze it. 

Who measured out its dimensions? Your parents, your pastors, your teachers, your friends, your own interpretations and experiences? 

Now, open it up. The first thing you'll probably find is a list of rules. No cussing, no drinking, no smoking, no sex before marriage, etc.--rules more or less strict depending on your denomination. Go ahead and set the list aside; I'm sure you have it memorized, anyway.

Rummage through the Bible verses, the sermon notes, the Sunday school lessons of weeks, months, years. Somewhere in that box, you should find God. Or at least, the part of Him that fits in your box. 

Pay attention, because this next part is essential: I want you to take God out of the box. 

This might be difficult. It is likely that He is tied down pretty tight, like those toys secured with fifty twisty ties. You may even want to get out the chain saw. Whatever it takes, you have to set God free. 

Free from all the rules and regulations you have chained Him with so He could fit into your finite understanding. I know it's scary. Trust me, I know. What if He gets out of the box and looks entirely different than all the carefully measured dimensions we forced Him to fit so nicely in? What if He causes you to question something you've been completely certain about your whole life, those carefully crafted theological convictions? What if He's bigger, more incomprehensible, than you had ever imagined?

It's true. If you let Him out of the box, He will mess you up. I guarantee it. God does not fit in a box, no matter how intricately constructed. And it is frightening, admitting that God is bigger than our comprehension, truly giving Him free reign in our lives to do what He will. 

But when we take the risk, when we trust in His goodness and fully surrender our desire to "define" the God who created us, He draws us deeper into the mystery of who He is, closer to His heart. And suddenly, we don't need answers. Because we've got Him.  

Dear God,

What can I possibly say that has not already been said? What great truth have You revealed to me that yet needs to be heard? I feel like I am shouting in a dark room, listening to these echoes reverberate back to me. And realizing. I am too small for this. I am much too small for this.

But this is my talent, Lord. This is my seed. May I never see the harvest, still I will plant. It's true, I want to see. Some confirmation that my words are not for nothing. Because I am selfish. I want to know that this is for You, that this is from You, and not from myself. I want to be used. And this is the only way I know how to be, right now. This is as much courage as I can muster.

I am still very broken, You know. It's easy to pretend I'm not, with these words. It is easy to pretend that I am very spiritual, wise. That I have it all together, the way most people seem to think. I can feel the expectation weighing on me, sometimes. 

You know I want to be everything You have called me to be. I want to know Your voice. I want everything else--everything else--to fade, my eyes are so enthralled with You. 

But I blink. I get distracted. By the material, the temporal. By myself. My anger, my fear, my selfishness. By the lies my heart insists on believing even when my head knows it's not true.

Still. You promised You could use us in our brokenness. You promised that my weakness was Your strength. That is why I have not given up. That is why I am still here. 

So this is me laying down my pride. If these words are only for echoing, I pray that I am changed when they return to me again. If these words cause only one person to stop and consider, I praise You for it. This is not about me. It never was. Because these words have always been Yours.

The Cynic Within.

Sarcasm is the preferred flavor of language in our society today. Anyone watch the television show House? Hugh Laurie's biting remarks and general disdain for those he deems idiots (which turns out to be most of the people he comes into contact with)--it's hilarious! How about Scrubs? I mean, really, who doesn't love Dr. Cox? And I know that everyone in my household laughs at the snide remarks made by Frank from Everybody Loves Raymond.

Still, our attraction to this kind of humor causes me to wonder. Because life is not a television show. Those same comments that we laugh about on the screen would be hurtful if they were directed at us in real life. And the bitter attitudes the characters possess are harmful when we possess them ourselves.

Yet, we take on that cynic mentality. At least, I know I do. To be optimistic is to be naive, shallow, out of tune with "the way things really are." Optimism is for those who are not strong enough to face the facts. The world is cold, harsh, unforgiving. We may as well expect the worst.

But I discovered something, almost two years ago now. I discovered that it is the optimists, not the cynics, who are the strong ones. After this revelation, I made a pledge to abandon cynicism. Two years later, I'm still struggling to get there (noticed the title of this blog lately?). But in the summer of 2009, I was inspired to write the following, and it remains an encouragement to me today:

Sure, it's dangerous abandoning cynicism for the life of the optimist. You're forsaking reality for idealism, giving up your protective shell and allowing yourself to become vulnerable. And in that moment when someone disappoints you, you will feel such pain, and you'll remember why you were so afraid to believe in them. But the truth behind it all is that there is a God who never fails, and He is urging us to have a little faith. Faith in Him, yes of course. But it extends deeper than that. It is a faith that all things really do work out for good. It is a faith that believes God can change people and use them for glory. It is a faith that believes in people as God believes in them, that sees His Spirit in His children and prepares to witness the impossible. And when people fail, there is not judgment or bitterness, but encouragement. This faith is not a feeble hope, but a hope that expects. And the cynical would call such faith naïve foolishness, because they are afraid of the pain of disappointment. So they retreat in misery, blocking out and numbing themselves to that pain, perhaps with the idea that they will wait for a world better than this one, and thus miss the opportunity to bring the hope of heaven to an earth that so desperately needs it. And it is true that the optimist, the dreamer, the believer, will experience much greater disappointment that the cynics, for they hope much while we live in a world that is yet broken. But we press on, pushing aside all fear of failure. Because our hope is in a greater reality, one in which disappointment does not exist. And any pain, any failure, in this world is overshadowed by the truth of God’s goodness, the plan He has in store, and the victory already won. So take the risk. Believe the impossible. Never give up hope. It is so much more than worth it.

Wise Words from a Dead Guy.

As I was reading through Solomon's proverbs during my devotions today, I came across this verse:

"It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way." -Proverbs 19:2

The words immediately struck me, causing me to pause and ponder the two extremes implicated in the verse. The first is the one explicitly stated: those who are passionate, but lacking knowledge. I think passion is a beautiful thing. Especially in today's world, when we are all too often entrapped in apathy, it is beautiful to watch someone fighting for what they believe in, taking a stand for their convictions. However, it is entirely possible (in fact, it's quite common) for people to be passionate about things that are not founded on truth; they don't have the correct knowledge as a foundation for their passion.

Take Westboro Baptist church, for example. They claim to be passionate about God. But anyone who has read the Bible all the way through can see that their hateful words and actions completely go against everything that God stands for.

Or take someone who has just been introduced to faith in Christ. Many new believers are absolutely on fire for God, and it is a wonderful thing to see. But if they do not start seeking out the truths of God, and if other Christians do not gather around them, building up their knowledge about God and His truth, they may have a lot of misconceptions about God--misconceptions that may be compounded when they try to share their faith with others.

But there is another extreme that this verse brought to mind, most likely because this is the extreme towards which I tend to lean. Rather than being someone full of zeal without knowledge, there are those who are full of knowledge, with little zeal.

I've grown up in the church my entire life. Read the Bible through, several times. And a lot of other books about God, too. Listened to a lot of sermons, a lot of Christian music. I've stored up a lot of knowledge about God over the years. And with all of that knowledge, with all of those beautiful promises that I'm aware of, you would think I would have more passion. You would think that I would be busting down people's walls to tell them how incredible my God is, that I would be pouring the love of my Savior over every person I met.

But unfortunately, what happens is, as we accumulate more and more knowledge, we start to take our knowledge for granted. God spoke the universe into existence? That's nice. Jesus died for our sins so we could be reconnected with a God who's radically in love with us? Yeah, I've heard. The Holy Spirit lives inside us, the same Spirit that lived in Jesus, a Spirit that gives us the same power and authority He had? That's cool.

Really? Really? Instead of recognizing what incredible promises we have been given, these truths are stored away in our brains as abstract concepts. We assent to His truth on an intellectual level, but we do not claim it in our daily lives.

Whether we lack knowledge, zeal, or both, it is detrimental to our spiritual health. And as such, it is also detrimental to the health of the body of Christ. Lack knowledge? Get into the Word. Get around strong Christians, mentors who really know God (not just know about Him) who can help lead you deeper into the knowledge and experience of Him. Lack passion? Spend time with God. Read your Bible, sing songs to Him, pray, listen. And ask. Ask for a renewal, an awakening, a revival. Ask for more. Get around other believers who are seeking more, who can encourage you, sharpen you.

I'm saying all this, but the truth is, there is no secret formula. There is no easy answer, no five-step program. But there is a God who always fulfills His promises. And He has promised:

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." -Jeremiah 29:13