Friday morning; 7:30 am: alarm goes off.
Today was going to be exciting. Today I was starting off the day with an adventure! The night before I'd set out all the right clothes and packed a few things that I'd need into my backpack. And the letters. I double checked for those letters.
This morning I was going biking, and what a beautiful day for cycling it was! It had already been arranged with the Mission leaders that I would bike to the office in the morning because my mentor and house leader was away at his internship. I suppose that with only one student living way out in the goonies (that's me) it wasn't worth the trip or the gas, so I volunteered to bike instead. I had to be at the office by noon. No problemo! However, I was planning on making one stop along the way. Well...Not quite along the way.. Actually, it was fifteen miles out of my way, but that's insignificant.
See, the letters I had were, to me, really important letters. I had written one of them the night before and the other Wednesday night. There was a special retreat that my home church was holding for high school juniors and seniors. At the end of the weekend retreat, the youth received something special from friends and family (I'll try and not completely blow the secret for future attendees). These letters were my contribution to two of these people. I had the option of emailing them to those in charge of setting up this part of the retreat, but I really wanted them to get these handwritten. There's something different about getting a typed, emailed note as opposed to receiving a paper with a familiar scrawl upon it. I would've mailed them, but I don't think there's any sort of postal mailing system that will take a letter from a mailbox in one zip code and put it in another mailbox in a different zip code in the same day. So, without a car, I decided to bike them in..
I left the house at 8:30 am, leaving me three and a half hours. I'd mapped out my routes ahead of time and found that this should be a good amount of time with about a half hour cushion.
I started out fresh and ready to do some riding! The trip to the church proved difficult but not terribly challenging and I arrived without incident about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Stepping off the peddles and looking back at the bike as I walked inside the church, I thought "I do NOT want to get back on the machine.." My butt was killing me, my shirts were soaked through with sweat, and my legs were pretty sore. But that wasn't important. I got there and I delivered the letters. I helped JZ, the youth pastor's wife, set up some things for the retreat while I chatted with her son, Wyatt, as he munched on his cheerios. Then, before I left, I watered up and printed off the directions I'd saved. Slightly behind schedule, I headed out again; thirteen miles down, eighteen to go.
The way back was very difficult. I was no longer feeling fresh and full of energy. I was tired and very sore, and my bike seat, padded as it was, seemed to be making a permanent imprint on my behind. Once or twice, I began to doze slightly while peddling. I didn't think it was possible to doze like that while exerting so much physical effort. Not to mention, I felt like most of the trip back was uphill. But the trip there had seemed mostly uphill too! God should've made downhills longer because you travel faster.. That's assuming you'd be going the same direction every time you traveled those hills.. Anyways. This time, some of the hills were so long and others so steep, That I had to walk a few of them after running out of lower gears on my bike. Actually, I found that I made faster progress when I was walking up the hills sometimes. It got to a point where I had a very strong desire for water. I already had a sore throat from a cold I'd been battling, but now I was worn out both on the immediate level and the recovery level. Downhill breaks now only recovered minimally what earlier downhill travels would've given back in full, refreshing breaths. I needed water. So I prayed for water. I mouthed the word "water" to myself hoping passing drivers would be able to read my lips. I prayed again. Twice more in fact. Yet no water came. Finally, I told God, "I know you know what I need, if you provide it, I realize it'll be in your time."
As I continued on, I stopped telling God I needed water but began talking to myself and telling myself that I needed water. However, myself disagreed and said "Suck it up, princess!" Over the next few miles, similar conversations ensued, and each resulted in my pushing myself harder and further. I kept an eye out for the possibility of a discarded water bottle along the side of the road. I don't think I would've picked up an water bottle that was already opened unless it looked fairly clean and was at least half full. At one point, though, I saw a beer bottle that had been filled with a few sips of mixed leftover beer and rainwater. It was the most promising amount of liquid I'd seen yet and I half considered it for a moment, but not to the point where I pulled over to really considered it.. Still I kept going. I was curious about the time, but knew that it couldn't be too near to noon yet. At a particularly steep hill on Bartholow Road, I had to get off and walk. It seemed like these hills were around every turn. I was walking up the hill looking at all the clutter on the roadside. It seemed like there must've been some kind of accident there awhile back because of the nature of some of the clutter. I walked past it all. with only a few looks. I'd told God that if He was going to provide, it would have to clearly His provision. So I'm walking along, the hill begins to level out, when all of a sudden I see it. No, not a bottle of water, but a clementine. It was sitting just out of the mess of leaves and mud near the white line on the road. I picked it up, brushed it off just in case, though it looked undamaged except for a few small bruises, and I peeled it. It tasted slightly out of season, but otherwise perfect. It was juicy, sweet, and was the best thing I'd tasted in a long time. I felt like grabbing a bunch of rocks and building a small memorial on the roadside like the Israelites did in Joshua 4:19! That was the most exciting part of the trip. After eating the clementine, I hopped onto my bike and continued on my way. I arrived at the office at 12:05 pm just in time to start noon prayer.
I say all this for the sake of the clementine:
See, I prayed for water. I asked God to give me water now. Obviously, God had other plans. He didn't give me water right away when I asked for it. Instead He gave me something BETTER in His own time! God provides for those who love Him and He gives to those who ask. He doesn't always respond when we ask and it seems like maybe He didn't hear us. But He always hears us; He just chooses to work in His own timing. In some ways, God is the worst procrastinator ever. He always seems to wait until the last minute to act, but His results always reach or surpass our expectations.
Yep, God taught me that through a bruised clementine on the side of the road. Who'da thunk it?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Oh, The Things I've Done
*This is an old blog. I wrote it down on paper about two months ago with all the intentions of posting it then, but never found time to put it in here.*
I've been reflecting on my life, as short as it has been so far, and have been thinking about the mistakes I've made. Some of them are small and I can laugh at them now, but some of them are really big mistakes.
Recently,as I've been praying and desiring to grow more, spiritually, there've been a few really big mistakes that continually rise to the surface of my mind. These are things that happened awhile back, and I know God's forgiven me , and maybe the people they've involved have forgotten about them altogether, or at least chosen to move on from them. You'd think that with God and them content with the way things've settled, my troubled mind would be able to find peace. Buuut...nohsuhchluck. The problem still lies in me. I can't forgive myself. Could that be the feeling of guilt and condemnation from the devil? Possibly. Whatever the cause of t hose feelings are, I just want them out. I don't want them anymore. In fact, I've never wanted them. So what better way to extinguish them than to address the situation head on?
About two months ago (four now), I had the opportunity to talk to a friend of mine and I carefully approached the subject which I knew could transition into what I was aiming at. I brought up the mistake I'd made and asked for that person's forgiveness. They shrugged it off and told me there was no wrong to forgive. They said it seriously. The peace I received from that was incredible. I don't know if coming to them in person and asking them face to face for their forgiveness has or will change or impact their life in any way, but I hope they're spared some grief later down the road. Since then, I've let the memory of that mistake go. I'll never forget about it, but it won't bother me anymore. I've received forgiveness from all sides: from God above, from my friend around me, and from myself within.
Very recently (About two months ago), I had another opportunity to talk to an individual in my life. Since I'd been freed from the guilt of the previous mistake, this was the heaviest burden I carried. I wrote this person a letter and was going to send it to them as soon as I could. However, I was in the middle of my prayer with my Mission family when I felt the urge to call the person. For several minutes, I rationalized and debated with myself. What if I didn't have the right words to say? What if they didn't remember what I was talking about? All the what if's.. I knew I wanted to do this. But did I need to go to these measures? Did I actually need to talk with this person? How much longer did I want to deal with this burden? This guilt was preventing me from getting as close to God as I wanted. Every time I would begin to get close to God, the same thought would always appear. "But you did this. You can't get close to God with that in your heart!" How much longer did I want to deal with this? "Why not get rid of it right now?" I thought. "Why wait any longer than I already have?" I stood up from my seat. That was the first step. I had taken it. I walked out of the room full of praying Mission students. I found a private place...and I made the call. I didn't know how to start off, but I prayed for the words and they came. I got a few sentences into my apology before I began choking back tears, but I forced the words to remain intelligible as I kept talking. And then I hung up. I sat down, cried, and thanked God. If He was anything less than perfect... But He Is.
I thought about the strongholds Satan has had in my life. His little castles that were once big fortresses: Strongholds of lying, lust, disobedience, selfishness, pride, and guilt. I imagined a foot sweeping in and making perfect, shoe-string contact with this final tower, sending it, and its prince flailing into the air and out of the picture. My picture. No..God's picture of me. I laughed aloud.
I felt like high-fiving God. :D
I've been reflecting on my life, as short as it has been so far, and have been thinking about the mistakes I've made. Some of them are small and I can laugh at them now, but some of them are really big mistakes.
Recently,as I've been praying and desiring to grow more, spiritually, there've been a few really big mistakes that continually rise to the surface of my mind. These are things that happened awhile back, and I know God's forgiven me , and maybe the people they've involved have forgotten about them altogether, or at least chosen to move on from them. You'd think that with God and them content with the way things've settled, my troubled mind would be able to find peace. Buuut...nohsuhchluck. The problem still lies in me. I can't forgive myself. Could that be the feeling of guilt and condemnation from the devil? Possibly. Whatever the cause of t hose feelings are, I just want them out. I don't want them anymore. In fact, I've never wanted them. So what better way to extinguish them than to address the situation head on?
About two months ago (four now), I had the opportunity to talk to a friend of mine and I carefully approached the subject which I knew could transition into what I was aiming at. I brought up the mistake I'd made and asked for that person's forgiveness. They shrugged it off and told me there was no wrong to forgive. They said it seriously. The peace I received from that was incredible. I don't know if coming to them in person and asking them face to face for their forgiveness has or will change or impact their life in any way, but I hope they're spared some grief later down the road. Since then, I've let the memory of that mistake go. I'll never forget about it, but it won't bother me anymore. I've received forgiveness from all sides: from God above, from my friend around me, and from myself within.
Very recently (About two months ago), I had another opportunity to talk to an individual in my life. Since I'd been freed from the guilt of the previous mistake, this was the heaviest burden I carried. I wrote this person a letter and was going to send it to them as soon as I could. However, I was in the middle of my prayer with my Mission family when I felt the urge to call the person. For several minutes, I rationalized and debated with myself. What if I didn't have the right words to say? What if they didn't remember what I was talking about? All the what if's.. I knew I wanted to do this. But did I need to go to these measures? Did I actually need to talk with this person? How much longer did I want to deal with this burden? This guilt was preventing me from getting as close to God as I wanted. Every time I would begin to get close to God, the same thought would always appear. "But you did this. You can't get close to God with that in your heart!" How much longer did I want to deal with this? "Why not get rid of it right now?" I thought. "Why wait any longer than I already have?" I stood up from my seat. That was the first step. I had taken it. I walked out of the room full of praying Mission students. I found a private place...and I made the call. I didn't know how to start off, but I prayed for the words and they came. I got a few sentences into my apology before I began choking back tears, but I forced the words to remain intelligible as I kept talking. And then I hung up. I sat down, cried, and thanked God. If He was anything less than perfect... But He Is.
I thought about the strongholds Satan has had in my life. His little castles that were once big fortresses: Strongholds of lying, lust, disobedience, selfishness, pride, and guilt. I imagined a foot sweeping in and making perfect, shoe-string contact with this final tower, sending it, and its prince flailing into the air and out of the picture. My picture. No..God's picture of me. I laughed aloud.
I felt like high-fiving God. :D
Thursday, February 24, 2011
This is How It Goes
This is the attitude I've been trying to have. This is the mindset I need. It's been hard to keep trying to think this way, but that's because I've had the wrong perspective. There is no "try". In some situations, there's still a "try" and in the end you have "done" because you tried hard enough to get by. This time, there is only do or do not. I either DO...Or I do not succeed in doing. Listen to this. This says it all:
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Count it All Joy.... Count it All Joy...
I've been avoiding writing this. I've been manning up since things have become what they are..
It feels like we've broken up. I follow you on Facebook, eagerly awaiting the arrival of each new status. I smile at some, sigh deeply at others. I want to comment on each, I want to tell you my thoughts, but I feel like they're not welcome anymore. I look at each new picture you post of yourself and long to tell you how beautiful you are. I want you to know how attractive I find you. But I feel as though you're no longer mine to share that with anymore. I know it's not true. The reason I don't share more of these thoughts is because it will only increase this familiar longing that you are already plagued with.
I want to talk to you, I want to text you all day. I want to be next to you to listen to you and hug you on the bad days just as I want to be next to you to laugh with you and hold your hand on the good days. But I can't. I can't even talk to you. I know if we start talking, the knowledge of our future will quickly have me climbing over this wall we've put up out of obedience. We'll be right back where we were before I felt the tug to do what we've now done and put each other aside for the time being.
I have the strength to do this so long as I can avoid you. It's when I talk to you or read your posts that are in any way connected or relevant to me that I falter. The deep, sad sigh that erupts from my heart causes me to shudder. The sudden swell of my own emotions surprises me yet I'm not taken off guard at all because I know they're there. I keep them buried as much as I can, but they glint and glimmer under their paper thin curtain at the smallest signs of life and light from beyond their cover. They betray betray me while they betray themselves as they awake from their slight slumber.
I can't talk to you. I need to avoid you. I already can't avoid you completely. It's already hard enough. But I couldn't have it any easier because I can't stand to see any less of you. It's a torturous in-between and it weighs on me considerably every time these feelings are aroused. These are my honest, human thoughts. These are things from my lowly perspective.
However, His thoughts are higher than mine and His ways are not my own.
No part of me wants to conclude this on a hopeful note. I want, for once, to be completely miserable, without a hint of bright optimism to taint my dreary canvas.
But we are under His watchful eye. His plans are to prosper us, not to harm us. He desires to bless those who love Him and are quick to obey Him. There is hope while there is a promise, and there shall be a promise until death do us part.
It feels like we've broken up. I follow you on Facebook, eagerly awaiting the arrival of each new status. I smile at some, sigh deeply at others. I want to comment on each, I want to tell you my thoughts, but I feel like they're not welcome anymore. I look at each new picture you post of yourself and long to tell you how beautiful you are. I want you to know how attractive I find you. But I feel as though you're no longer mine to share that with anymore. I know it's not true. The reason I don't share more of these thoughts is because it will only increase this familiar longing that you are already plagued with.
I want to talk to you, I want to text you all day. I want to be next to you to listen to you and hug you on the bad days just as I want to be next to you to laugh with you and hold your hand on the good days. But I can't. I can't even talk to you. I know if we start talking, the knowledge of our future will quickly have me climbing over this wall we've put up out of obedience. We'll be right back where we were before I felt the tug to do what we've now done and put each other aside for the time being.
I have the strength to do this so long as I can avoid you. It's when I talk to you or read your posts that are in any way connected or relevant to me that I falter. The deep, sad sigh that erupts from my heart causes me to shudder. The sudden swell of my own emotions surprises me yet I'm not taken off guard at all because I know they're there. I keep them buried as much as I can, but they glint and glimmer under their paper thin curtain at the smallest signs of life and light from beyond their cover. They betray betray me while they betray themselves as they awake from their slight slumber.
I can't talk to you. I need to avoid you. I already can't avoid you completely. It's already hard enough. But I couldn't have it any easier because I can't stand to see any less of you. It's a torturous in-between and it weighs on me considerably every time these feelings are aroused. These are my honest, human thoughts. These are things from my lowly perspective.
However, His thoughts are higher than mine and His ways are not my own.
No part of me wants to conclude this on a hopeful note. I want, for once, to be completely miserable, without a hint of bright optimism to taint my dreary canvas.
But we are under His watchful eye. His plans are to prosper us, not to harm us. He desires to bless those who love Him and are quick to obey Him. There is hope while there is a promise, and there shall be a promise until death do us part.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Laying It Down
Man, I've had a lot of thoughts lately. However, I don't think it'd be fair to spill them all in just one post because it could potentially go on forever. My latest thoughts, unfortunately have been somewhat in the dumpish. Not horribly. But enough to draw that depressed "Sigh" from my burdened chest. My burdened chest, that's where I went wrong.
"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall." Psalm 55:22
So long as I continue to hold on to the things I want closest to me, it's going to hurt more having to keep them at a distance. Imagine holding a 15 lbs weight. It's not so heavy holding it close to you, holding it tight against you. But when you're told to keep it a certain distance from your person, it becomes difficult. The further away from yourself you hold it, the more challenging it becomes to hold it up. Imagine that 15 lbs weight was something else, something you really cared about. In holding this object out in front of you, not only is it harder to uphold, but it also becomes more vulnerable as it remains suspended.
Sometimes it makes more sense to set the object down. It may be better for both you and whatever it is that you're looking after that's caught hold of your attention and affection.
Anyways, the song Use Somebody has been stuck in my mind this afternoon. Making April's cover of the song is somehow even more desperate sounding than the original song. I feel like I could really use somebody. I know I have Somebody to talk to. But there are so many times where I wish I could just lay all my cards out in front of someone and just allow my feelings to be naked.
You. Yes you. I can't talk to you. I am dying to talk to you. I can't. I know if you're there, any more than a little bit, things will be just as they have been before. They may not revert to what we've steered from on the outside, but inside of me, they will snap back like a tight rubber band. There's a lot more I could say, but all of that is only more details. You'll understand. You might not understand the reasons and details, but you understand the big picture.
As I've written this, a small pool of confidence has already began to build in me. I am more than a conqueror. World, if you have a problem with me, feel free to express it. If my life being a mess hasn't clued you in on anything yet, read this: I'm trusting God. Everything that I'm feeling doesn't have to be my problem. I only have to face it, I don't have to fight it. Everything that you have for me that could present a challenge or struggle in my life, leave it on my desk. My Boss will be making His rounds, He'll pick it up for me.
"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall." Psalm 55:22
So long as I continue to hold on to the things I want closest to me, it's going to hurt more having to keep them at a distance. Imagine holding a 15 lbs weight. It's not so heavy holding it close to you, holding it tight against you. But when you're told to keep it a certain distance from your person, it becomes difficult. The further away from yourself you hold it, the more challenging it becomes to hold it up. Imagine that 15 lbs weight was something else, something you really cared about. In holding this object out in front of you, not only is it harder to uphold, but it also becomes more vulnerable as it remains suspended.
Sometimes it makes more sense to set the object down. It may be better for both you and whatever it is that you're looking after that's caught hold of your attention and affection.
Anyways, the song Use Somebody has been stuck in my mind this afternoon. Making April's cover of the song is somehow even more desperate sounding than the original song. I feel like I could really use somebody. I know I have Somebody to talk to. But there are so many times where I wish I could just lay all my cards out in front of someone and just allow my feelings to be naked.
You. Yes you. I can't talk to you. I am dying to talk to you. I can't. I know if you're there, any more than a little bit, things will be just as they have been before. They may not revert to what we've steered from on the outside, but inside of me, they will snap back like a tight rubber band. There's a lot more I could say, but all of that is only more details. You'll understand. You might not understand the reasons and details, but you understand the big picture.
As I've written this, a small pool of confidence has already began to build in me. I am more than a conqueror. World, if you have a problem with me, feel free to express it. If my life being a mess hasn't clued you in on anything yet, read this: I'm trusting God. Everything that I'm feeling doesn't have to be my problem. I only have to face it, I don't have to fight it. Everything that you have for me that could present a challenge or struggle in my life, leave it on my desk. My Boss will be making His rounds, He'll pick it up for me.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
God is Not a Man, God is Not a White Man.
Ok, so this wasn't the first time I've learned this, but it was definitely a great reminder..
I was in Ocean City this past week to help with Winterfest. One of the first mornings we were down there (I can't remember which because they are all very blurred together) we had a few hours to ourselves, so I went for a walk along the beach. In my wandering up and down the shore, I began to talk to God as I picked up a few shells here and there. I was amazed at the the detail of the shells. I've seen shells before in my life, plenty of them, but I'd never taken the time to marvel at their intricate patterns and unique forms. I was impressed that God would so carefully shape something so small and temporary. Then I looked out at the ocean. I looked as far as I could, past the lone jet-ski way out there, and tried to peek over the edge of the horizon to see further than the curve of the earth would let me. It's clearly impossible to do that, but it never stops me from trying. Looking out over such a vast and endless seeming body of water gave me an fantastic realization: God is big. I knew this already, but when I thought about it, that He formed this HUGE ocean in one breath, not even in a whole day! it made me realize that He's even bigger than I had been giving Him credit. How much bigger than the whole ocean must He be if He could make it from nothing in only a moment?
It made me feel really, really tiny walking next to Him on the beach.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
To Nineveh or Bust
God,
Am I being like Jonah? Am I running away from what you want me to do? Every so often I wonder if specific parts of my life should be where they are yet. They're good things, but am I supposed to have it in my life, to the degree that it's in my life, at this time? I'm really feeling some kind of way about a specific thing. Am I supposed to hold on to it now? Am I supposed to let go of it now? I feel like climbing a mountain and screaming to you, "What do you want me to do?!" "Why won't you speak to me?? Or lead me! Or give me any form of clear direction in any way that I can pinpoint without a doubt it comes from you!!!" I feel serious conviction. I've felt it before, but it's been smaller, so I thought it was only doubt. But this time when it hit, I wonder if it's actually conviction, from you.. Is it? I want to be in the right place. I want to do what you have for me to do. I will throw off anything and everything that hinders. That's the thing though! I don't feel hindered by this thing. But when I think about it, I feel, at the same time, that there's so much more out there. Like a bird with a string on it's leg. I feel like I can still fly. But there seems to be so much more height above me that I can't reach so long as this string holds me. The string feels to be slowly stretching, I believe if I never cut it, I'd be able to stretch it out a lot more over an expance of time, pulling and tugging at it. But how much higher could I fly if I cut the string now? Then, in flying against and within the incredible winds and clouds, I would become the strong man I need to become so that I could easily return to that string to lift it without effort. My hope would be, taht in returning, that string would've become a kite, ready to soar with me, but with so much less effort.
God, I just don't know what to do. But I do not want to forget that this is the most serious feeling I've felt in a long time. It's more than an urge. It's as though a huge force is shoving me from behind, towards the edge of a cliff. Something inside me just knows that I need to do it, I really need to, but I'm digging my heels in furously, all the while screaming desperately over my shoulder, "Are you sure?! Are you sure?!!" But, God, if it's what you desire me to do, I'll do it. Just please, oh, please, Let me know for sure you desire it. I know I always ask you for a sign. But this is huge. I'm begging you. Show me in some way that I may know for sure. I trust you in all things. I will trust you in this as well. All good things are from you and you desire your children to have the good things. You made them for our enjoyment, that we praise you with them. But some good things are for later. They won't necessarily spoil or be lost if taken now, but how much more growth can be acquired if you leave a fruit on a tree and let it ripen on the branch before picking it rather than picking it and waiting for it to ripen in your hand?
I trust you God.
Your uncertain/desperate/waiting/yearning son,
Nate
Am I being like Jonah? Am I running away from what you want me to do? Every so often I wonder if specific parts of my life should be where they are yet. They're good things, but am I supposed to have it in my life, to the degree that it's in my life, at this time? I'm really feeling some kind of way about a specific thing. Am I supposed to hold on to it now? Am I supposed to let go of it now? I feel like climbing a mountain and screaming to you, "What do you want me to do?!" "Why won't you speak to me?? Or lead me! Or give me any form of clear direction in any way that I can pinpoint without a doubt it comes from you!!!" I feel serious conviction. I've felt it before, but it's been smaller, so I thought it was only doubt. But this time when it hit, I wonder if it's actually conviction, from you.. Is it? I want to be in the right place. I want to do what you have for me to do. I will throw off anything and everything that hinders. That's the thing though! I don't feel hindered by this thing. But when I think about it, I feel, at the same time, that there's so much more out there. Like a bird with a string on it's leg. I feel like I can still fly. But there seems to be so much more height above me that I can't reach so long as this string holds me. The string feels to be slowly stretching, I believe if I never cut it, I'd be able to stretch it out a lot more over an expance of time, pulling and tugging at it. But how much higher could I fly if I cut the string now? Then, in flying against and within the incredible winds and clouds, I would become the strong man I need to become so that I could easily return to that string to lift it without effort. My hope would be, taht in returning, that string would've become a kite, ready to soar with me, but with so much less effort.
God, I just don't know what to do. But I do not want to forget that this is the most serious feeling I've felt in a long time. It's more than an urge. It's as though a huge force is shoving me from behind, towards the edge of a cliff. Something inside me just knows that I need to do it, I really need to, but I'm digging my heels in furously, all the while screaming desperately over my shoulder, "Are you sure?! Are you sure?!!" But, God, if it's what you desire me to do, I'll do it. Just please, oh, please, Let me know for sure you desire it. I know I always ask you for a sign. But this is huge. I'm begging you. Show me in some way that I may know for sure. I trust you in all things. I will trust you in this as well. All good things are from you and you desire your children to have the good things. You made them for our enjoyment, that we praise you with them. But some good things are for later. They won't necessarily spoil or be lost if taken now, but how much more growth can be acquired if you leave a fruit on a tree and let it ripen on the branch before picking it rather than picking it and waiting for it to ripen in your hand?
I trust you God.
Your uncertain/desperate/waiting/yearning son,
Nate
Friday, November 19, 2010
You Do Trust Me...Don't You?
I can remember some years ago while I was in middle school, all my peers liked to play the "gullible games." There was the "Made you look!" game, the "Look! Gullible's written on the ceiling!" game. There were all sorts of those games, and I'm sure they're still just as popular if not even more widely played. At first, I was a sucker at these games, but it didn't take too long before I could tell when my friends were joking. After the first couple times, where I'd say "Oh, you got me!" I wouldn't even look in the general direction of where they'd gestured towards. If they pointed up, I would look down, if they gasped and looked right, I would look away. I figured that way, they couldn't accuse me of maybe sneaking a glance, there was no possible way I could've looked where they'd pointed.
Let me give you a little history. Growing up with seven siblings, both of my parents, and my uncle too (for a few years), I learned to trust. Whether it was my brother and I rough housing, or my dad pitching a baseball to me, I trusted that they knew the extent of my abilities. I trusted my brother to respect my abilities and not get to carried away, and I had faith that my dad knew just how to stretch my abilities the right way to help me become better. I also climbed a lot of things when I was younger. I climbed trees, sometimes I'd climb onto our second story roof, I climbed whatever looked like it'd be fun to climb. Not only did I develop a trust in myself and my abilities in this area of my life, but I also trusted thin branches, slippery shingles, and loose rocks. I was always trusting something.
You can imagine, when I got to middle school, I was the same, mostly innocent, trusting child as I had been before. But after enough of these games, I grew tired of people "crying wolf" and making things up and saying things that weren't true. I wanted to believe my friends, but I knew what they were saying wasn't true. I stopped trusting them on that level. I still trusted them when it came to confiding secrets and the like, but that was usually a mistake too. It took me a while to realize that that was how most kids were at that point in their maturing nature.
But I stopped trusting. By the time I was a young teenager, I began to doubt my father's love for me. I began to doubt my mother's love. I doubted that my friends were really my friends. I was just a kid. I felt like I'd been duped in a lot of ways, I felt like dirt; I didn't believe that any human being seriously wanted anything to do with me. It reached the point where I doubted that God had any plan for me. Just like in those games, if God would've had me do one thing, I would do the opposite. If my mom or dad asked something of me, I might deliberately ignore them and do what I wanted.
It took me a long time to learn to trust again. It wasn't until my relationships with my parents and siblings began to heal that I would trust them again. But it developed and grew over time. Even beginning to trust God, however, was a totally different world. I began to live out my Christian walk and follow Him as best as I thought I could, but I only said that I trusted Him. That was a good first step to take at the time, but I had no understanding of what it meant to truly trust God. I needed a reason to trust God. That seemed completely reasonable. If I were going to trust my friend with something important, whether it was a secret, or a special possession, I would need good proof that they weren't going to fail me. I would need obvious proof that they were trustworthy. That's completely logical, isn't it?
We can't put God in the same box as we would our friends. We can't make Him our "pocket-sized Jesus." We can try to do that, but when we try to live with His authority, we're only going to have the same pocket-sized authority. If we are going to have authority over all things, whether of darkness or of light, we need the full-sized Jesus. There's so much trash and filth and evil in the world and around us in our own houses and our own lives; we can't make it with anything less than everything.
Trusting God means having faith in Him without having a reason, without having proof. Once you have a good reason, it's no longer trust, it's justifiable expectations. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." Don't we have reason enough to trust Him without being given a sign or a personal revelation? Let me draw a picture for you. Imagine this:
You see yourself standing. It's only you, standing there. You are alone in the dark. Suddenly, a bright light appears in front of you; not frighteningly bright, but this light is directly in front of you, close enough to touch you. Slowly, this light takes the form of a man. The form grows and the light dims slightly so that you can see the details of this man, this large powerfully built man. He arms are brawny and the muscles seem chiseled from stone. His neck is as thick as a small tree and his thin white undershirt is filled with a barrel chest. Yet, as this man looks into your eyes, you see deep compassion and boundless love. He reaches to grasp your hand and you feel that despite his muscular appearance, his hands are strangely delicate yet strong at the same time. This man is God. As you look at this man, he turns and faces away from you. He stands straight and still. At this time, another light begins to appear. This light also begins to take the form of a man. This man is less powerfully built, but he is wearing full battle gear, from his steel helm, which is open so that you can see his face, to the drawn sword in his right hand, to the steel plate boots covering his feet. This man materializes at your side. You notice that though he is dressed as a warrior, he bears the markings of a medic upon his breastplate. This man turns to look at you and lays a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulder. He looks into your eyes and smiles at what he sees there. This man is Jesus. He turns to face forward, looking in the same direction as you, towards God's back. God begins to walk forward, you and Jesus begin to follow. As you walk, small lights begin to emerge from the darkness around you. There are countless lights, possibly hundreds. They begin to come closer until they're all almost connected, completely surrounding you. These lights do not dim but you can only see the ghostly outline of their bodies. They are garbed similarly to Jesus but they have great wings and their swords are on fire. This is the heavenly host that surrounds you. You continue to walk. You are dumbfounded by what you see. It amazes you, but what does it all mean?
God walks in front of us to protect us from the brunt of the force:
"The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes." -Deuteronomy 1:30
Christ walks beside us to aid us in what God allows through:
"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." -Hebrews 13:5
God has commanded His angels to keep watch all around you:
"For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91:11-12
"The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them." -Psalm 34:7
What you see here is a demonstration of God's promise to us. He will always be there in front of you, Jesus will always be with you, and the angels will keep watch over you. On top of all that, He promises you still more:
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." -Psalm 23:6
So, not only do you have God before you, Jesus next to you, and the host of heaven around you, but two new lights appear on your flanks. These lights take the form of two men, dressed in black suits, and wearing dark, shaded glasses and subtle earpieces. Goodness and Mercy, like two slick agents, track you everywhere you go. They trail you along the mountain's path and through the valley's thick underbrush.
There can be no doubt that God is looking out for you. Any and every situation you face, great or small, has submitted it's application to God. God has run thorough background checks on every single conflict and has only let through the issues which He knows that you are capable of defeating. Some of them may be too big for you to face alone. In those instances, you must step to the side, allowing Jesus full access to the problem. You may have a particular plan to defeat certain conflicts; maybe your ways work. How much better will things work out if you allow Jesus to fight for you? You won't know until you try.
If you don't understand any of this, I want you to remember three nothings. Nothing you deal with is unknown to God. Nothing you deal with has slipped past God without His consent. And nothing you deal with must be fought alone.
Here's one final example. Picture a small family. There's a father, mother, and two children. The younger child is a beautiful baby girl, only 3 months old. The father loves both children, but that tiny baby girl is so precious to him that he begins to cry every time he thinks about her. He had felt the same way about his son, now seven years old, when he was her age. His love for his son hadn't dwindled, it had grown and developed. He still would spend time pitching to his son in the backyard every evening when he got home from work, no matter how much studying he needed to do. He was his superhero sidekick, his partner in crime when it came to raiding Mommy's cookie jar, his wrestling buddy before bedtime prayers, his tiny prince. One night, after the father had put all the kids to bed and had gone to bed himself, a thief broke into the house. He had come in search of money, but he couldn't find more than a few nickels on the kitchen counter top. So he snuck into the master bedroom where the father and mother were sleeping. He glanced swiftly around but still found nothing. He was determined to not leave empty handed. Then he saw her. The moonlight fell through the blinds of the windows like golden columns, alighting on her crib. Quietly, the thief crept to the side of the crib and bent to pick her up. Surely, her parents would be willing to pay a decent ransom to get their child back safely. Just as he began to scoop her up, a door in the hall opened up and a soft whimper came floating to his ears. Small footsteps began to come near the parents' doorway. He released the peacefully slumbering baby and carefully drifted into the open doorway. The child in front of him gasped as he reached down to cover his nose and mouth. The muffled noises weren't enough to wake the tired father. At the bottom of the stairway leading to the front door, the child caused the thief to slip on a stair. As they stumbled, the child was able to release one choking yell. It was just enough to startle the father from his sleep. He jumped up and raised towards his seven year old's bedroom. As he got to the room he heard a door slam. He didn't see his son anywhere so he raced downstairs, flipping on light switches as he yelled in fear and anger. He flung open the door and bounded off the front porch just in time to see the taillights of a small car pulling away from the curb. As fast as he ran, the car disappeared before he was anywhere close. His son was gone. Police later found the child's remains in an abandoned housing unit. The family mourned for days. For weeks they cried together, praying that somehow God reverse the time so that they could relive that night and prevent what had befallen their household. They knew there was no way that would ever happen and over time, the family began to pull themselves up again, leaning heavily on one another. One night, about three weeks after the crime, the father was by his window. It was late in the night and he was praying and weeping. He begged God to forgive him for failing as a father. As he stood up, tears still streaming from his sleep deprived eyes, his gaze fell upon the sleeping beauty beside him. She lay there, so oblivious to everything, yet such a huge part of it all. He reached out to hold her hand. Her lips quivered in the light of the moon as he touched her. That night, he vowed to give the girl the very best of everything she could ever have. Nothing would ever keep him from loving her. For she was not only living her life from this point on. She was living because her brother had been taken instead. As their father, he would make sure that his son's death would not be wasted. That baby girl had a huge future. He knew that God agreed.
You too are a child of God. God's son died for you. You were going to be killed, but instead, he was taken in your place. You were found guilty, but were given life. How much greater is God's love for you now that your life has been intertwined with his son's? If His children allow their lives to be wasted, does that not then make the death of His son in vain? You have been called to a higher standard. Your life was preserved not so that you could continue to live in fear, doubt, regret, worry, and sin. You are to live with boldness, with trust. You know God has bigger plans for you. You know God wouldn't forsake you ever because He wouldn't have you lose yourself again. He is looking after you just as closely as He has always been. You have only to trust Him.
Just Trust.
Let me give you a little history. Growing up with seven siblings, both of my parents, and my uncle too (for a few years), I learned to trust. Whether it was my brother and I rough housing, or my dad pitching a baseball to me, I trusted that they knew the extent of my abilities. I trusted my brother to respect my abilities and not get to carried away, and I had faith that my dad knew just how to stretch my abilities the right way to help me become better. I also climbed a lot of things when I was younger. I climbed trees, sometimes I'd climb onto our second story roof, I climbed whatever looked like it'd be fun to climb. Not only did I develop a trust in myself and my abilities in this area of my life, but I also trusted thin branches, slippery shingles, and loose rocks. I was always trusting something.
You can imagine, when I got to middle school, I was the same, mostly innocent, trusting child as I had been before. But after enough of these games, I grew tired of people "crying wolf" and making things up and saying things that weren't true. I wanted to believe my friends, but I knew what they were saying wasn't true. I stopped trusting them on that level. I still trusted them when it came to confiding secrets and the like, but that was usually a mistake too. It took me a while to realize that that was how most kids were at that point in their maturing nature.
But I stopped trusting. By the time I was a young teenager, I began to doubt my father's love for me. I began to doubt my mother's love. I doubted that my friends were really my friends. I was just a kid. I felt like I'd been duped in a lot of ways, I felt like dirt; I didn't believe that any human being seriously wanted anything to do with me. It reached the point where I doubted that God had any plan for me. Just like in those games, if God would've had me do one thing, I would do the opposite. If my mom or dad asked something of me, I might deliberately ignore them and do what I wanted.
It took me a long time to learn to trust again. It wasn't until my relationships with my parents and siblings began to heal that I would trust them again. But it developed and grew over time. Even beginning to trust God, however, was a totally different world. I began to live out my Christian walk and follow Him as best as I thought I could, but I only said that I trusted Him. That was a good first step to take at the time, but I had no understanding of what it meant to truly trust God. I needed a reason to trust God. That seemed completely reasonable. If I were going to trust my friend with something important, whether it was a secret, or a special possession, I would need good proof that they weren't going to fail me. I would need obvious proof that they were trustworthy. That's completely logical, isn't it?
We can't put God in the same box as we would our friends. We can't make Him our "pocket-sized Jesus." We can try to do that, but when we try to live with His authority, we're only going to have the same pocket-sized authority. If we are going to have authority over all things, whether of darkness or of light, we need the full-sized Jesus. There's so much trash and filth and evil in the world and around us in our own houses and our own lives; we can't make it with anything less than everything.
Trusting God means having faith in Him without having a reason, without having proof. Once you have a good reason, it's no longer trust, it's justifiable expectations. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." Don't we have reason enough to trust Him without being given a sign or a personal revelation? Let me draw a picture for you. Imagine this:
You see yourself standing. It's only you, standing there. You are alone in the dark. Suddenly, a bright light appears in front of you; not frighteningly bright, but this light is directly in front of you, close enough to touch you. Slowly, this light takes the form of a man. The form grows and the light dims slightly so that you can see the details of this man, this large powerfully built man. He arms are brawny and the muscles seem chiseled from stone. His neck is as thick as a small tree and his thin white undershirt is filled with a barrel chest. Yet, as this man looks into your eyes, you see deep compassion and boundless love. He reaches to grasp your hand and you feel that despite his muscular appearance, his hands are strangely delicate yet strong at the same time. This man is God. As you look at this man, he turns and faces away from you. He stands straight and still. At this time, another light begins to appear. This light also begins to take the form of a man. This man is less powerfully built, but he is wearing full battle gear, from his steel helm, which is open so that you can see his face, to the drawn sword in his right hand, to the steel plate boots covering his feet. This man materializes at your side. You notice that though he is dressed as a warrior, he bears the markings of a medic upon his breastplate. This man turns to look at you and lays a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulder. He looks into your eyes and smiles at what he sees there. This man is Jesus. He turns to face forward, looking in the same direction as you, towards God's back. God begins to walk forward, you and Jesus begin to follow. As you walk, small lights begin to emerge from the darkness around you. There are countless lights, possibly hundreds. They begin to come closer until they're all almost connected, completely surrounding you. These lights do not dim but you can only see the ghostly outline of their bodies. They are garbed similarly to Jesus but they have great wings and their swords are on fire. This is the heavenly host that surrounds you. You continue to walk. You are dumbfounded by what you see. It amazes you, but what does it all mean?
God walks in front of us to protect us from the brunt of the force:
"The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes." -Deuteronomy 1:30
Christ walks beside us to aid us in what God allows through:
"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." -Hebrews 13:5
God has commanded His angels to keep watch all around you:
"For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91:11-12
"The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them." -Psalm 34:7
What you see here is a demonstration of God's promise to us. He will always be there in front of you, Jesus will always be with you, and the angels will keep watch over you. On top of all that, He promises you still more:
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." -Psalm 23:6
So, not only do you have God before you, Jesus next to you, and the host of heaven around you, but two new lights appear on your flanks. These lights take the form of two men, dressed in black suits, and wearing dark, shaded glasses and subtle earpieces. Goodness and Mercy, like two slick agents, track you everywhere you go. They trail you along the mountain's path and through the valley's thick underbrush.
There can be no doubt that God is looking out for you. Any and every situation you face, great or small, has submitted it's application to God. God has run thorough background checks on every single conflict and has only let through the issues which He knows that you are capable of defeating. Some of them may be too big for you to face alone. In those instances, you must step to the side, allowing Jesus full access to the problem. You may have a particular plan to defeat certain conflicts; maybe your ways work. How much better will things work out if you allow Jesus to fight for you? You won't know until you try.
If you don't understand any of this, I want you to remember three nothings. Nothing you deal with is unknown to God. Nothing you deal with has slipped past God without His consent. And nothing you deal with must be fought alone.
Here's one final example. Picture a small family. There's a father, mother, and two children. The younger child is a beautiful baby girl, only 3 months old. The father loves both children, but that tiny baby girl is so precious to him that he begins to cry every time he thinks about her. He had felt the same way about his son, now seven years old, when he was her age. His love for his son hadn't dwindled, it had grown and developed. He still would spend time pitching to his son in the backyard every evening when he got home from work, no matter how much studying he needed to do. He was his superhero sidekick, his partner in crime when it came to raiding Mommy's cookie jar, his wrestling buddy before bedtime prayers, his tiny prince. One night, after the father had put all the kids to bed and had gone to bed himself, a thief broke into the house. He had come in search of money, but he couldn't find more than a few nickels on the kitchen counter top. So he snuck into the master bedroom where the father and mother were sleeping. He glanced swiftly around but still found nothing. He was determined to not leave empty handed. Then he saw her. The moonlight fell through the blinds of the windows like golden columns, alighting on her crib. Quietly, the thief crept to the side of the crib and bent to pick her up. Surely, her parents would be willing to pay a decent ransom to get their child back safely. Just as he began to scoop her up, a door in the hall opened up and a soft whimper came floating to his ears. Small footsteps began to come near the parents' doorway. He released the peacefully slumbering baby and carefully drifted into the open doorway. The child in front of him gasped as he reached down to cover his nose and mouth. The muffled noises weren't enough to wake the tired father. At the bottom of the stairway leading to the front door, the child caused the thief to slip on a stair. As they stumbled, the child was able to release one choking yell. It was just enough to startle the father from his sleep. He jumped up and raised towards his seven year old's bedroom. As he got to the room he heard a door slam. He didn't see his son anywhere so he raced downstairs, flipping on light switches as he yelled in fear and anger. He flung open the door and bounded off the front porch just in time to see the taillights of a small car pulling away from the curb. As fast as he ran, the car disappeared before he was anywhere close. His son was gone. Police later found the child's remains in an abandoned housing unit. The family mourned for days. For weeks they cried together, praying that somehow God reverse the time so that they could relive that night and prevent what had befallen their household. They knew there was no way that would ever happen and over time, the family began to pull themselves up again, leaning heavily on one another. One night, about three weeks after the crime, the father was by his window. It was late in the night and he was praying and weeping. He begged God to forgive him for failing as a father. As he stood up, tears still streaming from his sleep deprived eyes, his gaze fell upon the sleeping beauty beside him. She lay there, so oblivious to everything, yet such a huge part of it all. He reached out to hold her hand. Her lips quivered in the light of the moon as he touched her. That night, he vowed to give the girl the very best of everything she could ever have. Nothing would ever keep him from loving her. For she was not only living her life from this point on. She was living because her brother had been taken instead. As their father, he would make sure that his son's death would not be wasted. That baby girl had a huge future. He knew that God agreed.
You too are a child of God. God's son died for you. You were going to be killed, but instead, he was taken in your place. You were found guilty, but were given life. How much greater is God's love for you now that your life has been intertwined with his son's? If His children allow their lives to be wasted, does that not then make the death of His son in vain? You have been called to a higher standard. Your life was preserved not so that you could continue to live in fear, doubt, regret, worry, and sin. You are to live with boldness, with trust. You know God has bigger plans for you. You know God wouldn't forsake you ever because He wouldn't have you lose yourself again. He is looking after you just as closely as He has always been. You have only to trust Him.
Just Trust.
Trust in the LORD with all your heart
Lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways submit to him,
He will make your paths straight.
-Proverbs 3:5-6
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
I've got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy.....
Have you ever felt so bogged down in life and stressed out that you prayed for God to come tomorrow? Probably. But have you ever felt like you should feel overwhelmed due to your circumstances, but instead you feel curiously joyous and particularly carefree despite all things you need to accomplish? That's how I feel today.
Let me tell you, Mission life is not easy. Oh, heaven knows.. Our weeks are filled with college homework, ministry training, late nights, early mornings, road trips in a large van with all eleven of the seats filled and equipment taking up the space where the last van bench should be.. We're constantly around the same ten people. We're always tired. We're prohibited from certain privileges while we're here, more so if you happen to be a first-year student. It's tough.
The past month and half, I've had an especially tough class. Now that I'm nearing the end of the eight-week session, projects are shooting up like boulders in the End of the Dinosaur Age scene in Walt Disney's Fantasia. Similar to the boulders, they're huge and so sudden. Most of them are due within a week of being assigned. It's craziness.
Nearing our Turkey Break, our Mission schedule is becoming more and more packed. Man, I remember when we started out in August and we thought that we had a crazy schedule then. Let me tell you. The Mission Schedule is like a fat kid with no digestive system and no capacity limitations. He keeps eating, but he never releases anything!
I understand what's going on though. They're trying to kill us right before break so that we have seven whole days to be resurrected so that we'll be alive again when we come back. I don't even want to think about the sixteen days between the return from Thanksgiving Break and the beginning of Christmas Break!
Maybe you think I'm making half of this up.. To assure you otherwise, this is what we were told before Fall Break: "It's called Fall Break for a reason! You're going to fall into break. We'll make sure of it!"
Ahhh yes.. Sweet, sweet Mission life.
Anyways, I'm sure you've caught on. I've got a considerable amount on my plate. To make things worse, or better, depending on how you look at it, I haven't been talking to my best friend and future mate for the last few weeks. I spoke to her just once a few days ago, but only to commit to not talking to her for an indefinite period of which the digits are in months. I dare someone to tell me I haven't lost my sanity. I'd probably poke a needle in your eye.
It wasn't without a reason, but that's a totally different story. I'm going to marry her one day, and she knows that.
I'm sure you've probably realized how discombobulated my neural network is after all these scattered thoughts.
What I am getting at is this: I have much to do, think about, work out, plan, survive, and otherwise grow through and into. But even with everything going on and my friends around me becoming more and more frustrated with every passing day (oh, not to mention the tests and presentations coming up over the next two days in our ministry class), I'm somehow able to think positively. As I do my course work and study my textbooks I can't hep but be happy and joyous. Maybe it's because Christmas is getting closer. Maybe it's because I'm almost out on break. Or maybe it's all a result of changing my focus from myself to God. The results of the sleep I sacrifice and the energy I dedicate every day to Him are not nearly as overpowering as they used to be before I adjusted my life-lenses. And on top of that, He gives me joy. He gives me peace where others are stressed, strength where others are faltering, perseverance where others are despairing, happiness where others are complaining, and joy where others are annoyed. Could I ask for more?
Let me tell you, Mission life is not easy. Oh, heaven knows.. Our weeks are filled with college homework, ministry training, late nights, early mornings, road trips in a large van with all eleven of the seats filled and equipment taking up the space where the last van bench should be.. We're constantly around the same ten people. We're always tired. We're prohibited from certain privileges while we're here, more so if you happen to be a first-year student. It's tough.
The past month and half, I've had an especially tough class. Now that I'm nearing the end of the eight-week session, projects are shooting up like boulders in the End of the Dinosaur Age scene in Walt Disney's Fantasia. Similar to the boulders, they're huge and so sudden. Most of them are due within a week of being assigned. It's craziness.
Nearing our Turkey Break, our Mission schedule is becoming more and more packed. Man, I remember when we started out in August and we thought that we had a crazy schedule then. Let me tell you. The Mission Schedule is like a fat kid with no digestive system and no capacity limitations. He keeps eating, but he never releases anything!
I understand what's going on though. They're trying to kill us right before break so that we have seven whole days to be resurrected so that we'll be alive again when we come back. I don't even want to think about the sixteen days between the return from Thanksgiving Break and the beginning of Christmas Break!
Maybe you think I'm making half of this up.. To assure you otherwise, this is what we were told before Fall Break: "It's called Fall Break for a reason! You're going to fall into break. We'll make sure of it!"
Ahhh yes.. Sweet, sweet Mission life.
Anyways, I'm sure you've caught on. I've got a considerable amount on my plate. To make things worse, or better, depending on how you look at it, I haven't been talking to my best friend and future mate for the last few weeks. I spoke to her just once a few days ago, but only to commit to not talking to her for an indefinite period of which the digits are in months. I dare someone to tell me I haven't lost my sanity. I'd probably poke a needle in your eye.
It wasn't without a reason, but that's a totally different story. I'm going to marry her one day, and she knows that.
I'm sure you've probably realized how discombobulated my neural network is after all these scattered thoughts.
What I am getting at is this: I have much to do, think about, work out, plan, survive, and otherwise grow through and into. But even with everything going on and my friends around me becoming more and more frustrated with every passing day (oh, not to mention the tests and presentations coming up over the next two days in our ministry class), I'm somehow able to think positively. As I do my course work and study my textbooks I can't hep but be happy and joyous. Maybe it's because Christmas is getting closer. Maybe it's because I'm almost out on break. Or maybe it's all a result of changing my focus from myself to God. The results of the sleep I sacrifice and the energy I dedicate every day to Him are not nearly as overpowering as they used to be before I adjusted my life-lenses. And on top of that, He gives me joy. He gives me peace where others are stressed, strength where others are faltering, perseverance where others are despairing, happiness where others are complaining, and joy where others are annoyed. Could I ask for more?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
My Hope is Built on Nothing Less..
"What am I going to be when I grow up? How am I going to make my mark in history?" How can I be sure that the choices I'm making right now are the right choices? How much longer will I be tested in patience? Why can't I be at home right now with my friends who I miss so badly? Why do 18 hours of my day have to be planned out for me? Why do I have to be so busy all the time? Sleep? What's that? How come I can't just take a five minute break to remember what it's like to breath without another task getting shoved down my throat? Why should I have to listen to people who aren't even a year older then me, who made them my leaders? Why can't I even text the people I want to text, or just call them?! What if I die tomorrow? Or tonight? What have I done to make my life significant to God? What have I done to spread His kingdom? Am I a good Christian? What are people going to say about me after I'm gone? Have I been great for the King?
I have no guarantee of my next heartbeat. Right now is the only moment that matters.
"Redeem the time, because the day's are evil."-Ephesians 5:16 We don't have all the time in the world. If we were told this morning that we had til midnight to live, how would we spend that day? Hopefully it would be your biggest and most fearless day of ministry. Who cares how people think about you? You're going to be dead in a few hours. That's how we should live every day of our life though, not just our last 16 hours.
Too often we're thinking about ourselves unintentionally. We don't even realize how much we plan ahead our own lives until someone tells you to imagine that you're in a plane it's engines have failed and you only have two minutes to write a letter to any person.
You catch yourself instinctively thinking, "But wait! I didn't get to do this or this or all these things with my life!" And suddenly you realize that you've been planning all these things in your future. But those are your own plans. What are God's plans for you?
We aren't to worry about what we're going to eat or drink, or even what we're going to wear. "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"-Matt 6:27
Hakuna Matata...
But I'm not a perfect person either. I plan. I worry. I doubt God too.
That's why on my own, I can never be a source of strength for you. On my own, I can never be a foundation strong enough to hold up to the brutality of life. On my own, I can never help you.
"On Christ the solid Rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand." If someone were to depend on me, I would be sinking sand to them. If I were their first priority, the most important thing to them, if I were at the center of their life, they would have a miserable life. I wouldn't be able to meet all of their needs and I would fail them, over and over again.
Though my arms be a comfort to you, my love will fail you. "It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in mortal man. it is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in princes."-Psalm 118:8-9
"Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me free. With the Lord on my side I do not fear. What can man do to me? The Lord is on my side to help me; I shall look in triumph on those who hate me."-Psalm 118:5-7
I won't always be able to be there for you, but "He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you will find refuge."-Psalm 91:4
Where is under His wings? It's close to His heart. Where's that? How do you get there? Through His Word. Jesus said he was the way, the truth, and the light; he was the word. Right now, Jesus is immediately next to the Father. he stands at God's side as our interceding high priest, both day and night. Every day and night.Where he is is unaffected by how or who we are. He is always right here next to us, as he is always right there next to the Father. Therefore, when we have the Word, Jesus, in us, we are right there next to the Father, under His wings and close to His heart.
I have no guarantee of my next heartbeat. Right now is the only moment that matters.
"Redeem the time, because the day's are evil."-Ephesians 5:16 We don't have all the time in the world. If we were told this morning that we had til midnight to live, how would we spend that day? Hopefully it would be your biggest and most fearless day of ministry. Who cares how people think about you? You're going to be dead in a few hours. That's how we should live every day of our life though, not just our last 16 hours.
Too often we're thinking about ourselves unintentionally. We don't even realize how much we plan ahead our own lives until someone tells you to imagine that you're in a plane it's engines have failed and you only have two minutes to write a letter to any person.
You catch yourself instinctively thinking, "But wait! I didn't get to do this or this or all these things with my life!" And suddenly you realize that you've been planning all these things in your future. But those are your own plans. What are God's plans for you?
We aren't to worry about what we're going to eat or drink, or even what we're going to wear. "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"-Matt 6:27
Hakuna Matata...
But I'm not a perfect person either. I plan. I worry. I doubt God too.
That's why on my own, I can never be a source of strength for you. On my own, I can never be a foundation strong enough to hold up to the brutality of life. On my own, I can never help you.
"On Christ the solid Rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand." If someone were to depend on me, I would be sinking sand to them. If I were their first priority, the most important thing to them, if I were at the center of their life, they would have a miserable life. I wouldn't be able to meet all of their needs and I would fail them, over and over again.
Though my arms be a comfort to you, my love will fail you. "It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in mortal man. it is better to take refuge in the Lord than to put confidence in princes."-Psalm 118:8-9
"Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me free. With the Lord on my side I do not fear. What can man do to me? The Lord is on my side to help me; I shall look in triumph on those who hate me."-Psalm 118:5-7
I won't always be able to be there for you, but "He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you will find refuge."-Psalm 91:4
Where is under His wings? It's close to His heart. Where's that? How do you get there? Through His Word. Jesus said he was the way, the truth, and the light; he was the word. Right now, Jesus is immediately next to the Father. he stands at God's side as our interceding high priest, both day and night. Every day and night.Where he is is unaffected by how or who we are. He is always right here next to us, as he is always right there next to the Father. Therefore, when we have the Word, Jesus, in us, we are right there next to the Father, under His wings and close to His heart.
Love, will, hold us together,
Make us a shelter to weather the storm.
I'll be my brother's keeper,
So the whole world will know that we're not alone.
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