Just give me what's mine and then leave me alone
I don't need you anyway
I don't want you or your charity
I just want the spoils
Wealth
Success
Reputation
Sex
Family
Just give it to me and leave me alone
Don't ask anything from me
I don't owe you anything
Leave me alone
==========
God, this is great
What a waste of time you were
Now I have (almost) all l I ever wanted and
Didn't have to give anything for it
Just a few more things
Just a few more and
then I'll be satisfied
You'll see
==========
It's harder than I thought
But I'll make this work
I know I can
Just a little more self-control and
discipline and
reading and
listening and
learning and
note-taking and
then I'll have it down
You'll see
==========
What happened
Everything was going so well
This is all your fault
You didn't give me enough
You rigged the stakes against me
You won't take temptations away
I bet it's a fun game for you
Watching this
But I'll come out on top
Just a little longer
Just a little more
You'll see
==========
Oh God, what have I done
Look at me
I'm broke
washed up
cast down
filthy
alone
What have I done
Oh God
Look at what I've done
Look at
what
I've done
Look at these
Unclean lips
Bloody rags of
counterfeit righteousness
Damned
Can't talk to you
be with you
look at you
You'll see
======
Last-ditch shot
I can't fix it
Any of it
But maybe
Maybe I can wash your feet
Clean your house
Tend your crops
Feed your pigs
Care for your cattle
Just make me a
slave
lowly
marginalized
Just give me a
place to rest
scraps from your table
shelter
And I'll do whatever you want
It's too late for me
to be a son again
But maybe I
can find my
way back
======
Dust from the road caked
on my
bloody
bare feet
Wheezing
Half-blind
I can see you already
Your house
Your crops
Blurry
What
You're
Moving
Running
To me
Oh my God
What are you doing
Throwing your
arms around me
Kissing me
Your tears of
joy
flowing
What's this
ring
coat
shoes
calf
What's this
white robe for this your
whore
bastard son
adopted back
as
heir
It can't be
This is too much to
understand
take in
appreciate
pay back
I can't do it
But you
promise
you can
and now
I'll see
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Yawn.
Battling apathy is a common theme for the last six months and something I'm really struggling with lately. Have I always been this lazy?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
No Peace
There is so much that I am thinking about right now in regards to the future....there is not a lot of peace in thinking about these things, which causes me fear. The thing is, I don't know whether that lack of peace is just a result of fear of the unknown that I am afraid to jump into, or whether it's an indication that I should stay the present course and not do the things I'm thinking about doing.
Is that ambiguous enough? Haha!
Prayer would be appreciated.
Is that ambiguous enough? Haha!
Prayer would be appreciated.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Ruby Beach
OLYMPIC PENINSULA - October 16, 2009
The rain had started in Seattle and had not stopped nearly the entire trip. It pounded with a ferocity I had rarely seen as I drove out of the city, as though pushing back against the car to prevent my departure. The wind drove the rain with even greater force and whipped through the trees, bending their tops.
Eventually the rain subsided and even stopped for a while; now, hours later and as I rounded the northwestern tip of the Olympic Peninsula and turned south on 101, it was diminishing to little more than a drizzle. I passed through dense forests and through Forks, where I saw the word “Twilight” at least two dozen times in three blocks.
After stopping for gas and coffee, I continued into the forest, guiding the car through the foggy drizzle and lazy curves of the two-lane highway.
The sign for Ruby Beach came out of nowhere along the straight stretch of road between the evergreens, and without thinking I slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel to the right, flying off the main road and onto the dirt side road that hugged the cliff’s edge. This was not a planned stop and I was still sixty miles from my destination. Through the fog and the trees to my left I suddenly saw the ocean, churning violently and so close it seemed to threaten to scale the cliff.
Parking the car at the trailhead, I rolled up my jeans, not bothering to trade flip-flops for shoes, and stepped out into the rain, which was now nothing more than a mist that filled the air and smelled of sea salt. The trail down to the beach was surprisingly short, but the sight that greeted me at the bottom was even more surprising.
A rushing, silt-laden river spilled out of the forest at the base of the trail, its banks completely concealed by the overhanging evergreens and fiery deciduous trees ablaze with fall colors. It looked like a Northwest version of the huge brown rivers on the Discovery channel as they flow lazily through the Amazon.
As it approached the beach, the riverbed suddenly banked to the right, flanked by the massive driftwood logs that had floated down the river and then been forced back up the beach by the superior strength of the Pacific in a war of waters. River pushed; ocean pushed back. The result was that it was impossible to reach the beach without climbing over the tangled mass of cedar and fir that formed the cease-fire line between the river and the ocean.
Smooth, polished stones formed most of the upper beachhead, crafted and then deposited by the river and making for an unusual but beautiful look; I’d seen rocky beaches before – this is the Northwest – but this was much different.
Scattered along the beach, as though tossed from the cliffs by giants, were huge scraggy rock masses that stuck out of the water and received the brunt of the Pacific’s angry pounding. Their rough tops sprouted green moss and small trees and their bases were polished astonishingly smooth by the waves, giving them the appearance of slowly oxidizing gray metal; they changed color from brown to gray in a seamless, shiny wet gradient, finally blending with the sand at the bottom. Other smaller, equally smooth rock formations littered the beach, leading me to believe that just under the sand must lie a vast expanse of solid rock, likely volcanic.
Enshrouding it all was the thick fog rolling in from the Pacific, giving the entire scene an eerie but somehow peaceful quality. I was dumbstruck. The expanse of nature in front of me screamed of the awesome power of God displayed in His creation.
The most impressive element in the scene – and the one that got my attention immediately – was the ocean. I climbed over the logs and made my way to the confluence of river and sea, totally in awe of the might that felt as though it rushed outward from the very water itself as it pounded the beach.
And I instantly felt very, very small.
Standing on one of the smooth, flat rocks, I stared out over the Pacific in silence. The only distinguishing feature between the horizon separating cloudy sky and steel water was a slightly darker shade of gray. The ocean’s foam was a light brown that frothed and spit in all directions as the breakers slammed into each other with such violent force that occasionally a wave would burst unexpectedly through the throng and rush up the beach, forcing me to retreat. There was no distinguishable in-out, peaceful wave lapping pattern at the beachhead. The ocean just churned and frothed and leaped with rage as the wind howled.
God, this is so like you. The thought came from nowhere as I stared out at the water.
I’m standing here, this little man confronted with this massive ocean so much bigger than I am – I want so badly to run into it, to experience it, to get more of it; but if I rushed into those waves I would die. You’re the same way right now – so close, so incredibly powerful, but just out of reach. Why can’t I feel you? Where is my heart? Why can’t I seem to get near you?
I sighed. That was exactly why I’d come out to the peninsula – to get away from all the noise, all the static, all the responsibilities, all the commitments. Each day felt like a slogging ordeal that seemed to never end, and yet I was not making enough time for myself nor, more importantly, for Jesus. I felt drained, exasperated, tired, and constantly on edge. I was beyond dysfunctional at work, completely unable to focus, and stumbling around in every other area of life. I desperately needed time alone with Jesus so that I could examine my heart, talk to Him, try to sort out priorities and plan for the future.
I had lost my passion for everything – including the Gospel, a fact which scared me more than anything else. I could not shake the extremely discomforting suspicion that I was nothing more than a religious Pharisee, trying to use God to get what I really wanted and getting angry when He didn’t give it.
A great weight of inauthenticity was pressing upon me and getting heavier every day; and it was eating away at my soul and my passion like a slow and steady acid drip. Fake, fake, fake. Liar, liar, liar. You don’t know Him. Stop acting like you do. Even if you tried He wouldn’t care – He knows you don’t really want Him. You just want to be a better version of you – admit it. You make Him sick, you know that? Look around you – you know why you don’t have passion like those people? Because you don’t know Him. And you’re never going to have passion like those people, because you’re never GOING to really KNOW Him. You’re going to spend the rest of your life fooling yourself into thinking you know Jesus. And sooner or later everyone is going to see you for what you really are . . . and someday, He’ll see it too. And then it will be far, far too late for you. Can you hear it already? “Depart from me . . . “ Fake, fake, fake.
I was terrified.
And so the peninsula trip had thus been planned a month and a half ago, a desperate and last-ditch effort to cry out to God with my whole heart – and all its inauthenticity – from the best place I could think of – the edge of my known world. This was quite literally it – nothing but the mighty and vast ocean stood before me. I prayed silently. Here I am, God. I’m on edge, literally and figuratively. Please come and meet me here. I’m not even sure I’m here with a pure heart, but I need you to make it right.
For a while there was no answer. I simply stared out in silence at the leaden water and waited.
My thoughts drifted back to the Genesis sermon I’d listened to earlier that week. Mark had made a point that I had not expected or ever heard before: God is a God intimately involved in His creation, not some kind of watchmaker who made a clock, wound it up, and then stepped back to let it run. He speaks and the sun rises, the wind blows, and the waves crash. He speaks over it still today, not just at the time of creation.
And then suddenly I knew why I was here and what He was quietly whispering to my heart.
My hands have made this ocean, this beach, this surf. With my hands and with my words I cause the waves to crash and the tides to change, the wind to blow, the sun to rise and set. I tell the waters to churn or the seas to calm and they will obey me. This ocean before you is mine. If I am so involved in my oceans, why do you believe I am not involved with you? Do you not know that you are more precious to me than my seas?
I felt hope flare up like an ember in wind.
Do you remember when you were a boy and you stared out at this same ocean and realized that I made it to reflect my glory and to show you my love for you? Why do you now doubt my love? You tremble rightly when you look into your heart; but do you not believe that I am capable of purifying even that which is impure? If you have been justified by my Son’s blood, will you not also be spared from my wrath through His blood? No, your heart is not pure, and no, you have not sought me – I sought you.
Motion in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I looked up just in time to see a bald eagle alight on the top of one of the scraggy rocks, less than a hundred feet from where I stood. The eagle preened itself briefly and then stared at me for a moment before also turning its gaze out over the waters, blinking in the wind.
This is my ocean. All of this is my creation and so are you.
Peace rushed like the river slamming into the ocean.
The God who had made the limitless ocean stretched out before me was the same God pursuing me. The same God who desired a relationship with me. The same God who was intimately involved in every minute detail of my life.
I had been meditating on Romans 5:5 on the way out to the peninsula, longing for such an outpouring of the Spirit. I longed for the hope of the joy that would spur me to persevere. And so I continued to mediate and pray.
Father, please send your Holy Spirit and pour out your love into me. Do verse 5! Please! I don’t even know what that means, but please just do it!
It occurred to me that at the root of my terror was something that I had felt ever since I was a child. It was my view of God as a Father.
God, to me, was a strict, serious, not-to-be-trifled with Father who was not particularly fond of me as a son. In fact, I was probably His greatest disappointment. He was usually angry and would withhold Himself from me if I was disobedient – and sometimes even when I wasn’t, just to make me squirm. He loved me out of obligation and not out of selflessness; he longed to punish me, not lovingly correct and prosper me; and He was probably very, very sorry that I even existed.
And so I lived in constant dread of disappointing Him through my perpetual failures. Obedience on my part, then, was not out of love or joy but out of fear. And I doubted that God would help me because, in my view, I was not loved.
And is that what you see here, at my ocean? He whispered again. Do you see obligatory involvement? Disinterest? Punishment?
I thought for a moment. No, Lord. I see power. I see orchestrated beauty in creation and your hands in it. And that means You are good. That means you care for me.
Then why do you doubt me, Matthew?
I could say nothing but no response was needed. And so I looked out over the Pacific as the wind howled and the leaden, frothy waves churned, confident in His power and fully assured of His trustworthiness.
The rain had started in Seattle and had not stopped nearly the entire trip. It pounded with a ferocity I had rarely seen as I drove out of the city, as though pushing back against the car to prevent my departure. The wind drove the rain with even greater force and whipped through the trees, bending their tops.
Eventually the rain subsided and even stopped for a while; now, hours later and as I rounded the northwestern tip of the Olympic Peninsula and turned south on 101, it was diminishing to little more than a drizzle. I passed through dense forests and through Forks, where I saw the word “Twilight” at least two dozen times in three blocks.
After stopping for gas and coffee, I continued into the forest, guiding the car through the foggy drizzle and lazy curves of the two-lane highway.
The sign for Ruby Beach came out of nowhere along the straight stretch of road between the evergreens, and without thinking I slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel to the right, flying off the main road and onto the dirt side road that hugged the cliff’s edge. This was not a planned stop and I was still sixty miles from my destination. Through the fog and the trees to my left I suddenly saw the ocean, churning violently and so close it seemed to threaten to scale the cliff.
Parking the car at the trailhead, I rolled up my jeans, not bothering to trade flip-flops for shoes, and stepped out into the rain, which was now nothing more than a mist that filled the air and smelled of sea salt. The trail down to the beach was surprisingly short, but the sight that greeted me at the bottom was even more surprising.
A rushing, silt-laden river spilled out of the forest at the base of the trail, its banks completely concealed by the overhanging evergreens and fiery deciduous trees ablaze with fall colors. It looked like a Northwest version of the huge brown rivers on the Discovery channel as they flow lazily through the Amazon.
As it approached the beach, the riverbed suddenly banked to the right, flanked by the massive driftwood logs that had floated down the river and then been forced back up the beach by the superior strength of the Pacific in a war of waters. River pushed; ocean pushed back. The result was that it was impossible to reach the beach without climbing over the tangled mass of cedar and fir that formed the cease-fire line between the river and the ocean.
Smooth, polished stones formed most of the upper beachhead, crafted and then deposited by the river and making for an unusual but beautiful look; I’d seen rocky beaches before – this is the Northwest – but this was much different.
Scattered along the beach, as though tossed from the cliffs by giants, were huge scraggy rock masses that stuck out of the water and received the brunt of the Pacific’s angry pounding. Their rough tops sprouted green moss and small trees and their bases were polished astonishingly smooth by the waves, giving them the appearance of slowly oxidizing gray metal; they changed color from brown to gray in a seamless, shiny wet gradient, finally blending with the sand at the bottom. Other smaller, equally smooth rock formations littered the beach, leading me to believe that just under the sand must lie a vast expanse of solid rock, likely volcanic.
Enshrouding it all was the thick fog rolling in from the Pacific, giving the entire scene an eerie but somehow peaceful quality. I was dumbstruck. The expanse of nature in front of me screamed of the awesome power of God displayed in His creation.
The most impressive element in the scene – and the one that got my attention immediately – was the ocean. I climbed over the logs and made my way to the confluence of river and sea, totally in awe of the might that felt as though it rushed outward from the very water itself as it pounded the beach.
And I instantly felt very, very small.
Standing on one of the smooth, flat rocks, I stared out over the Pacific in silence. The only distinguishing feature between the horizon separating cloudy sky and steel water was a slightly darker shade of gray. The ocean’s foam was a light brown that frothed and spit in all directions as the breakers slammed into each other with such violent force that occasionally a wave would burst unexpectedly through the throng and rush up the beach, forcing me to retreat. There was no distinguishable in-out, peaceful wave lapping pattern at the beachhead. The ocean just churned and frothed and leaped with rage as the wind howled.
God, this is so like you. The thought came from nowhere as I stared out at the water.
I’m standing here, this little man confronted with this massive ocean so much bigger than I am – I want so badly to run into it, to experience it, to get more of it; but if I rushed into those waves I would die. You’re the same way right now – so close, so incredibly powerful, but just out of reach. Why can’t I feel you? Where is my heart? Why can’t I seem to get near you?
I sighed. That was exactly why I’d come out to the peninsula – to get away from all the noise, all the static, all the responsibilities, all the commitments. Each day felt like a slogging ordeal that seemed to never end, and yet I was not making enough time for myself nor, more importantly, for Jesus. I felt drained, exasperated, tired, and constantly on edge. I was beyond dysfunctional at work, completely unable to focus, and stumbling around in every other area of life. I desperately needed time alone with Jesus so that I could examine my heart, talk to Him, try to sort out priorities and plan for the future.
I had lost my passion for everything – including the Gospel, a fact which scared me more than anything else. I could not shake the extremely discomforting suspicion that I was nothing more than a religious Pharisee, trying to use God to get what I really wanted and getting angry when He didn’t give it.
A great weight of inauthenticity was pressing upon me and getting heavier every day; and it was eating away at my soul and my passion like a slow and steady acid drip. Fake, fake, fake. Liar, liar, liar. You don’t know Him. Stop acting like you do. Even if you tried He wouldn’t care – He knows you don’t really want Him. You just want to be a better version of you – admit it. You make Him sick, you know that? Look around you – you know why you don’t have passion like those people? Because you don’t know Him. And you’re never going to have passion like those people, because you’re never GOING to really KNOW Him. You’re going to spend the rest of your life fooling yourself into thinking you know Jesus. And sooner or later everyone is going to see you for what you really are . . . and someday, He’ll see it too. And then it will be far, far too late for you. Can you hear it already? “Depart from me . . . “ Fake, fake, fake.
I was terrified.
And so the peninsula trip had thus been planned a month and a half ago, a desperate and last-ditch effort to cry out to God with my whole heart – and all its inauthenticity – from the best place I could think of – the edge of my known world. This was quite literally it – nothing but the mighty and vast ocean stood before me. I prayed silently. Here I am, God. I’m on edge, literally and figuratively. Please come and meet me here. I’m not even sure I’m here with a pure heart, but I need you to make it right.
For a while there was no answer. I simply stared out in silence at the leaden water and waited.
My thoughts drifted back to the Genesis sermon I’d listened to earlier that week. Mark had made a point that I had not expected or ever heard before: God is a God intimately involved in His creation, not some kind of watchmaker who made a clock, wound it up, and then stepped back to let it run. He speaks and the sun rises, the wind blows, and the waves crash. He speaks over it still today, not just at the time of creation.
And then suddenly I knew why I was here and what He was quietly whispering to my heart.
My hands have made this ocean, this beach, this surf. With my hands and with my words I cause the waves to crash and the tides to change, the wind to blow, the sun to rise and set. I tell the waters to churn or the seas to calm and they will obey me. This ocean before you is mine. If I am so involved in my oceans, why do you believe I am not involved with you? Do you not know that you are more precious to me than my seas?
I felt hope flare up like an ember in wind.
Do you remember when you were a boy and you stared out at this same ocean and realized that I made it to reflect my glory and to show you my love for you? Why do you now doubt my love? You tremble rightly when you look into your heart; but do you not believe that I am capable of purifying even that which is impure? If you have been justified by my Son’s blood, will you not also be spared from my wrath through His blood? No, your heart is not pure, and no, you have not sought me – I sought you.
Motion in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I looked up just in time to see a bald eagle alight on the top of one of the scraggy rocks, less than a hundred feet from where I stood. The eagle preened itself briefly and then stared at me for a moment before also turning its gaze out over the waters, blinking in the wind.
This is my ocean. All of this is my creation and so are you.
Peace rushed like the river slamming into the ocean.
The God who had made the limitless ocean stretched out before me was the same God pursuing me. The same God who desired a relationship with me. The same God who was intimately involved in every minute detail of my life.
I had been meditating on Romans 5:5 on the way out to the peninsula, longing for such an outpouring of the Spirit. I longed for the hope of the joy that would spur me to persevere. And so I continued to mediate and pray.
Father, please send your Holy Spirit and pour out your love into me. Do verse 5! Please! I don’t even know what that means, but please just do it!
It occurred to me that at the root of my terror was something that I had felt ever since I was a child. It was my view of God as a Father.
God, to me, was a strict, serious, not-to-be-trifled with Father who was not particularly fond of me as a son. In fact, I was probably His greatest disappointment. He was usually angry and would withhold Himself from me if I was disobedient – and sometimes even when I wasn’t, just to make me squirm. He loved me out of obligation and not out of selflessness; he longed to punish me, not lovingly correct and prosper me; and He was probably very, very sorry that I even existed.
And so I lived in constant dread of disappointing Him through my perpetual failures. Obedience on my part, then, was not out of love or joy but out of fear. And I doubted that God would help me because, in my view, I was not loved.
And is that what you see here, at my ocean? He whispered again. Do you see obligatory involvement? Disinterest? Punishment?
I thought for a moment. No, Lord. I see power. I see orchestrated beauty in creation and your hands in it. And that means You are good. That means you care for me.
Then why do you doubt me, Matthew?
I could say nothing but no response was needed. And so I looked out over the Pacific as the wind howled and the leaden, frothy waves churned, confident in His power and fully assured of His trustworthiness.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
I Do Confess
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift your life
Should that be all I'll ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I
run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
Cause I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
I am a whore I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I
run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle
to you
-Derek Webb,
"Wedding Dress"
and for my wedding gift your life
Should that be all I'll ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I
run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
Cause I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
I am a whore I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I
run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle
to you
-Derek Webb,
"Wedding Dress"
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Pharisee
Where is my heart?
Where is my passion for the Gospel?
Where is my broken and contrite spirit?
I am a religious pharisee.
My planned 2 days of solitude this Friday and Saturday could not be coming at a better time. I am desperately in need of some time alone with the Lord. I need time to think, to pray, to write, to be still, to cry out. There is a lot for Jesus and I to talk about, a lot to pray about, a lot to plan about.
I am really looking forward to that. Please be praying for me, that these 2 days would be fruitful and a time of much-needed rest, conviction, and encouragement with Jesus.
Where is my passion for the Gospel?
Where is my broken and contrite spirit?
I am a religious pharisee.
My planned 2 days of solitude this Friday and Saturday could not be coming at a better time. I am desperately in need of some time alone with the Lord. I need time to think, to pray, to write, to be still, to cry out. There is a lot for Jesus and I to talk about, a lot to pray about, a lot to plan about.
I am really looking forward to that. Please be praying for me, that these 2 days would be fruitful and a time of much-needed rest, conviction, and encouragement with Jesus.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Zechariah
I want to be a man like Zechariah in Luke 1. I want to burn incense of prayer to God and ask genuinely and repeatedly in faith for that which I desire for decades, never losing faith that God will one day answer that prayer - be that answer yes, no, or later.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Tunnel
Just when I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel, the tunnel extends itself by another 20 miles; just when I think it's all almost over, I find out that it's really only just beginning. I feel like I'm on a treadmill on days like today. Just when I thought I was just about done with this stretch of the journey, this chapter in the story, I realize that reaching the end of that chapter was an idol and that I've been chasing nothing except my own false worship. My little golden calf crumbles like sand falling through my fingers.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Learnin'
I'm learning a lot right now, but three big things in particular:
1. Prayer. I do not pray enough, and we totally underestimate the power of prayer - not because our prayers somehow make things happen out of our own power, but because God is good and God delights in His children taking time to talk to Him and ask things of Him. He delights in giving to us the desires of our hearts when we delight ourselves continually in Him.
It is amazing to me how quickly things start to happen when you dedicate yourself to prayer in a serious way, laying things before the Lord and asking that His perfect will be done with them. As CS Lewis writes, "we are far too easily pleased" and we so often fail to just ASK God about the things that are on our hearts. So often I catch myself worrying about things that I should be praying about. I'll worry and worry and try to think of solutions rather than just starting with prayer. Why does it take so long to get this? I must have a really thick head. Thank God that God is patient.
2. Rest, work/life balance, and the size of your plate. I have made a habit out of leaving the office no more than 9 hours after walking into it for weeks now, and I cannot tell you all what a difference it has made. I leave a ton undone each day and yet I am totally at peace about it because I'm realizing how much richer life is when you take the time to do things other than work - like rest, connect with people, develop new skills, and cast vision for where you're going with this big thing we call life. Far too easy to get caught up in the day-to-day slog and lose sight of the mission God has us on. It's important to continually seek solitude and prayer, and that's not something I do enough.
Rest. I mean REAL rest - not laying on the couch watching tube. I mean really, truly refreshing rest. Reading a book outside in the sunshine on a summer day. Spending some time in prayer and journaling. Reading your Bible. Getting together with friends for a low-key evening of time together. Too often our "rest" is nothing more than just physical downtime, and they're not synonymous.
I'm also learning the importance of knowing the size of your plate and filling it accordingly. First, know how much you really CAN do or be involved in - how much free time and energy you REALLY have. Then use your time and energy wisely and to God's glory. This means taking some things off your plate and putting others on - but most importantly, when you put something on the plate, something else has to come off. Always. This is a hard one for me to learn. I recently stepped down from the Prayer Team at church, and it was a difficult decision to make, but I am confident it was the right one. I am able to focus more mental energy, more of my spiritual giftings - and more prayer - on the things that really need them right now, like Community Group and Theology Response Team.
3. Strategic Chaos. Sometimes it is necessary as a leader to create strategic chaos. This means allowing things to break down in a certain area or allowing a need to be felt and seen in order to force your troops to rally. I tend to be the type that, when a need is seen or felt, will just step in and fill it because it needs to be done. I am learning this is one of the worst things you can do to yourself - it drains you, exhausts you, and causes burnout. In order to lead effectively, you have to know when to step in and when to step back and say, "I need to let someone else step up to the plate here." That means being OK with it if no one DOES step up to the plate, in which case God is probably trying to tell your team something.
Trying to do it all yourself is nothing more than yet another form of pride masked as "get it done"-ness. I know that I am all too often afraid to let the system break down because I don't want it to reflect badly on me. But it's not about me, and ultimately God is in control of the system. He will do with it what He pleases.
1. Prayer. I do not pray enough, and we totally underestimate the power of prayer - not because our prayers somehow make things happen out of our own power, but because God is good and God delights in His children taking time to talk to Him and ask things of Him. He delights in giving to us the desires of our hearts when we delight ourselves continually in Him.
It is amazing to me how quickly things start to happen when you dedicate yourself to prayer in a serious way, laying things before the Lord and asking that His perfect will be done with them. As CS Lewis writes, "we are far too easily pleased" and we so often fail to just ASK God about the things that are on our hearts. So often I catch myself worrying about things that I should be praying about. I'll worry and worry and try to think of solutions rather than just starting with prayer. Why does it take so long to get this? I must have a really thick head. Thank God that God is patient.
2. Rest, work/life balance, and the size of your plate. I have made a habit out of leaving the office no more than 9 hours after walking into it for weeks now, and I cannot tell you all what a difference it has made. I leave a ton undone each day and yet I am totally at peace about it because I'm realizing how much richer life is when you take the time to do things other than work - like rest, connect with people, develop new skills, and cast vision for where you're going with this big thing we call life. Far too easy to get caught up in the day-to-day slog and lose sight of the mission God has us on. It's important to continually seek solitude and prayer, and that's not something I do enough.
Rest. I mean REAL rest - not laying on the couch watching tube. I mean really, truly refreshing rest. Reading a book outside in the sunshine on a summer day. Spending some time in prayer and journaling. Reading your Bible. Getting together with friends for a low-key evening of time together. Too often our "rest" is nothing more than just physical downtime, and they're not synonymous.
I'm also learning the importance of knowing the size of your plate and filling it accordingly. First, know how much you really CAN do or be involved in - how much free time and energy you REALLY have. Then use your time and energy wisely and to God's glory. This means taking some things off your plate and putting others on - but most importantly, when you put something on the plate, something else has to come off. Always. This is a hard one for me to learn. I recently stepped down from the Prayer Team at church, and it was a difficult decision to make, but I am confident it was the right one. I am able to focus more mental energy, more of my spiritual giftings - and more prayer - on the things that really need them right now, like Community Group and Theology Response Team.
3. Strategic Chaos. Sometimes it is necessary as a leader to create strategic chaos. This means allowing things to break down in a certain area or allowing a need to be felt and seen in order to force your troops to rally. I tend to be the type that, when a need is seen or felt, will just step in and fill it because it needs to be done. I am learning this is one of the worst things you can do to yourself - it drains you, exhausts you, and causes burnout. In order to lead effectively, you have to know when to step in and when to step back and say, "I need to let someone else step up to the plate here." That means being OK with it if no one DOES step up to the plate, in which case God is probably trying to tell your team something.
Trying to do it all yourself is nothing more than yet another form of pride masked as "get it done"-ness. I know that I am all too often afraid to let the system break down because I don't want it to reflect badly on me. But it's not about me, and ultimately God is in control of the system. He will do with it what He pleases.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Psalm 25
Turn to me and be gracious to me,
for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart are enlarged;
bring me out of my distresses.
Consider my affliction and my trouble,
and forgive all my sins.
-Psalm 25:16-18
for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart are enlarged;
bring me out of my distresses.
Consider my affliction and my trouble,
and forgive all my sins.
-Psalm 25:16-18
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Kill the Pride
I am very grateful for the friends God has placed in my life - friends who are not afraid to call me out on my sin when I can't see it. Had a great talk with a buddy of mine the other night about things going on in life - community group, service at church, finding a wife - the whole kit n' kaboodle. A wonderful deutsches Bier at Feierabend and a close friend are one of the fastest ways I know to cut to the chase of what is really going on in life. Some of the best conversations I have had with friends about the real issues they're facing have happened in that setting.
I will be honest - "frustrated" is not quite a strong enough word for how I have felt lately. Trying to steer and lead a community group is something that I am learning as I go, and which I can only liken to learning how to drive a stickshift by going on San Francisco hilly surface streets during rush hour. I have made a lot of mistakes along the way, mostly in the area of things I should have done but did not do. I am learning what it means to take responsibility in that way. There are changes that need to be made, vision that needs to be cast.
Aside from that, this has been a season of life generally marked by exhaustion and a sense of being worn down. I've felt like I haven't gotten fed enough, like I have nothing left to give - I've felt a sense of apathy and lack of desire to reach out at all. But I am learning that I don't manage my time well enough, don't take care of myself enough (sleep and diet), and consequently have become tired, irritable, and flat-out not that great to be around. Exhaustion tends to bring out our true nature in the worst way. And I can hardly complain that I am not getting fed if I do not use the time I have well. This is something that has to change immediately.
My problem is pride. I am all about Matt. Matt's success in all areas: work, Mars Hill, community group, relationships...It's all become about making Matt look good. Not only that, but the idea that Matt deserves X, Y, and Z: Matt deserves a successful community group that explodes in numbers. Matt deserves a pay raise and a promotion. Matt deserves a wife.
That's not OK, because in reality I deserve nothing. I had to confess that this morning. I have to let go. That pride has to be killed.
It continually amazes me how faithful God is to respond when we capitulate and give in. Even in the space of today I can feel the closeness returning. I don't understand that kind of loyalty and faithfulness.
It's time to get up off the ground and start running again.
I will be honest - "frustrated" is not quite a strong enough word for how I have felt lately. Trying to steer and lead a community group is something that I am learning as I go, and which I can only liken to learning how to drive a stickshift by going on San Francisco hilly surface streets during rush hour. I have made a lot of mistakes along the way, mostly in the area of things I should have done but did not do. I am learning what it means to take responsibility in that way. There are changes that need to be made, vision that needs to be cast.
Aside from that, this has been a season of life generally marked by exhaustion and a sense of being worn down. I've felt like I haven't gotten fed enough, like I have nothing left to give - I've felt a sense of apathy and lack of desire to reach out at all. But I am learning that I don't manage my time well enough, don't take care of myself enough (sleep and diet), and consequently have become tired, irritable, and flat-out not that great to be around. Exhaustion tends to bring out our true nature in the worst way. And I can hardly complain that I am not getting fed if I do not use the time I have well. This is something that has to change immediately.
My problem is pride. I am all about Matt. Matt's success in all areas: work, Mars Hill, community group, relationships...It's all become about making Matt look good. Not only that, but the idea that Matt deserves X, Y, and Z: Matt deserves a successful community group that explodes in numbers. Matt deserves a pay raise and a promotion. Matt deserves a wife.
That's not OK, because in reality I deserve nothing. I had to confess that this morning. I have to let go. That pride has to be killed.
It continually amazes me how faithful God is to respond when we capitulate and give in. Even in the space of today I can feel the closeness returning. I don't understand that kind of loyalty and faithfulness.
It's time to get up off the ground and start running again.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Still Here
Yep, I'm still alive, people - just been busy lately. Also trying to spend a little less time online and more time doing constructive things, like reading. And reading. Nothing of major importance to update ya'll on right now anyway, except that I am trying to regress to the bookworm roots of my youth.
Now, off to go read a book!
Now, off to go read a book!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
God's Chisel
I am really, really thankful for God's working on my heart and on my character. It's not always fun or enjoyable (in fact it very, very rarely is), but at the end of the road there's nothing better. Anything good in me I owe to Him.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Romans 8 Shows Up
You know, it's funny.
These days, my old struggles seem hardly even consequential most of the time. The complete lack of control over my own mind, the depression, the sense of darkness that hung over everything - these all seem like bad dreams that I had when I was young, not facts of life just a few short years ago. And lately, it seems like most days just pass by without much thought to what was once the most enslaving sin in my life. Even temptation is easy to say no to. It's just not attractive. I know where those roads lead, and I don't want to go down them.
But this season of relative calm and peace always gets disturbed, because there's eventually a moment where I get totally blindsided, out of nowhere, and it's all I can do not to flip out because of the pressure. They happen during some of the most inconsequential moments of life: shopping at the grocery store, writing an email at work, having a cup of coffee, reading a book, driving in my car. Yesterday one hit while driving home from work.
Two things happen in those moments:
1. I am profoundly conscious of the fact that there is an excruciating, deep longing that I don't think I will ever be able to fully describe. It is as though a vacuum opens up at the core of your being and begins to swallow everything like a black hole. But no matter how much it takes, it can't be satiated, and feeling that futile desire is probably as close to hell as I will ever get.
2. Even in the intense feeling of the idolatrous desires of my heart, I am profoundly conscious of my burning desire to go home. Home home. My soul groans for redemption in these moments.
In these moments I have to remind myself that the Holy Spirit is interceding for me with groanings too deep for words. For I know not what I should pray at those times. I have no words to speak, can't speak, can't think, can't focus, can't even breathe sometimes. But what I could never express if I wrote volumes or talked for years is known by my Father, and His will is known by the Spirit. And the Spirit intercedes for me according to my Father's will. Romans 8:26-27. My Father's will. Not my imperfect, selfish, quick-fix will.
What an amazing fact that is. Let that sink in for a moment. When you can't even breathe, God sends His Spirit to intercede on your behalf, to accomplish His good and perfect will.
And I believe that His will in those moments is twofold.
1. He allows that profound, excruciating longing to be felt for a reason. He doesn't just make it stop. And the reason for that is to continue to draw my attention to Him, the one who created me and who is therefore the only one capable of truly satisfying it legitimately, to His glory and my joy.
2. As He reminds me to look to Him and the cross, He desires me to be acutely aware of my own sanctification. He desires me to read on to verse 28, where He assures me that all things - even these moments of intense trial - work together for the good of those who are called according to His purposes. This is for my good because I am called according to His purposes. This means that I am blessed on the days when these moments of intense trial and temptation come my way, when I feel that if it doesn't let up I just won't be able to make it another day. Why?
Because this is what it looks like to work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Philippians 2. We are to be obedient even to death as Christ was obedient to death on a cross. Obedience to the point of the death of our sin, putting it to death day in and day out. These horrible moments - in the grocery store, in the car - these are the opportunities for me to understand what it means to have my sin nailed to a cross so that it may die and I may live.
These are the death throes of the old heart's idolatry and the sanctification of your new heart. You are being transformed to look more like Jesus. 2 Corinthians 3:18. From one degree of glory to another.
Jesus cried out, hanging from my cross 2,000 years ago, that it is finished. My redemption is accomplished. The veil has been torn from top to bottom. I think that of all the images in Scripture, that is the one that is the most emotionally powerful for me. Can you imagine? Can you imagine the sky turning black, rolling clouds, a powerful earthquake, and the veil shorn in two? The Most Holy Place, once a room of privilege, fear, and unparalleled risk, now exposed to all; open, free, inviting, in the most beautiful symbolism ever to grace the face of the earth?
In that moment 2,000 years ago, my redemption was finished. It was accomplished. Period. End of sentence, end of story. Matthew's story ends with redemption.
All that remained was for me to be born and to live out the story that had now been written. And so here I am, living this story. Working out my salvation in the produce section of Safeway, in the right lane on Westlake avenue, at a streetside table at Uptown Espresso. All according to His will and through the intercession of the Holy Spirit.
You need to know that the story of your life is not the story of what you did with the years you were alive. The story of your life is the story of a God who transforms. He re-creates. He makes all things new.
He makes all things new.
These days, my old struggles seem hardly even consequential most of the time. The complete lack of control over my own mind, the depression, the sense of darkness that hung over everything - these all seem like bad dreams that I had when I was young, not facts of life just a few short years ago. And lately, it seems like most days just pass by without much thought to what was once the most enslaving sin in my life. Even temptation is easy to say no to. It's just not attractive. I know where those roads lead, and I don't want to go down them.
But this season of relative calm and peace always gets disturbed, because there's eventually a moment where I get totally blindsided, out of nowhere, and it's all I can do not to flip out because of the pressure. They happen during some of the most inconsequential moments of life: shopping at the grocery store, writing an email at work, having a cup of coffee, reading a book, driving in my car. Yesterday one hit while driving home from work.
Two things happen in those moments:
1. I am profoundly conscious of the fact that there is an excruciating, deep longing that I don't think I will ever be able to fully describe. It is as though a vacuum opens up at the core of your being and begins to swallow everything like a black hole. But no matter how much it takes, it can't be satiated, and feeling that futile desire is probably as close to hell as I will ever get.
2. Even in the intense feeling of the idolatrous desires of my heart, I am profoundly conscious of my burning desire to go home. Home home. My soul groans for redemption in these moments.
In these moments I have to remind myself that the Holy Spirit is interceding for me with groanings too deep for words. For I know not what I should pray at those times. I have no words to speak, can't speak, can't think, can't focus, can't even breathe sometimes. But what I could never express if I wrote volumes or talked for years is known by my Father, and His will is known by the Spirit. And the Spirit intercedes for me according to my Father's will. Romans 8:26-27. My Father's will. Not my imperfect, selfish, quick-fix will.
What an amazing fact that is. Let that sink in for a moment. When you can't even breathe, God sends His Spirit to intercede on your behalf, to accomplish His good and perfect will.
And I believe that His will in those moments is twofold.
1. He allows that profound, excruciating longing to be felt for a reason. He doesn't just make it stop. And the reason for that is to continue to draw my attention to Him, the one who created me and who is therefore the only one capable of truly satisfying it legitimately, to His glory and my joy.
2. As He reminds me to look to Him and the cross, He desires me to be acutely aware of my own sanctification. He desires me to read on to verse 28, where He assures me that all things - even these moments of intense trial - work together for the good of those who are called according to His purposes. This is for my good because I am called according to His purposes. This means that I am blessed on the days when these moments of intense trial and temptation come my way, when I feel that if it doesn't let up I just won't be able to make it another day. Why?
Because this is what it looks like to work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Philippians 2. We are to be obedient even to death as Christ was obedient to death on a cross. Obedience to the point of the death of our sin, putting it to death day in and day out. These horrible moments - in the grocery store, in the car - these are the opportunities for me to understand what it means to have my sin nailed to a cross so that it may die and I may live.
These are the death throes of the old heart's idolatry and the sanctification of your new heart. You are being transformed to look more like Jesus. 2 Corinthians 3:18. From one degree of glory to another.
Jesus cried out, hanging from my cross 2,000 years ago, that it is finished. My redemption is accomplished. The veil has been torn from top to bottom. I think that of all the images in Scripture, that is the one that is the most emotionally powerful for me. Can you imagine? Can you imagine the sky turning black, rolling clouds, a powerful earthquake, and the veil shorn in two? The Most Holy Place, once a room of privilege, fear, and unparalleled risk, now exposed to all; open, free, inviting, in the most beautiful symbolism ever to grace the face of the earth?
In that moment 2,000 years ago, my redemption was finished. It was accomplished. Period. End of sentence, end of story. Matthew's story ends with redemption.
All that remained was for me to be born and to live out the story that had now been written. And so here I am, living this story. Working out my salvation in the produce section of Safeway, in the right lane on Westlake avenue, at a streetside table at Uptown Espresso. All according to His will and through the intercession of the Holy Spirit.
You need to know that the story of your life is not the story of what you did with the years you were alive. The story of your life is the story of a God who transforms. He re-creates. He makes all things new.
He makes all things new.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Psalm 6
Oh Lord, rebuke me not in your anger,
nor discipline me in your wrath.
Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
But you, O Lord - how long?
nor discipline me in your wrath.
Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
But you, O Lord - how long?
Restless
Were it not for the help of Tylenol PM, I would not be sleeping much right now. I can't shut my mind off and I can't quiet all of the troubles that are weighing on me. There is so much on my mind that I'm quickly reaching the breaking point. I want to throw up my hands at the sky and scream at God, "Why - why, when it counts the most, won't you give me clear guidance? Why do you ALWAYS go silent when I need to hear you most urgently?" I feel so much pressure inside and I can't take it anymore.
Time to read the Psalms. And pray. And seek counsel.
But I'm done just not doing anything. I'm done sitting around and waiting for changes to come. I need to act, possibly take a risk, and soon, because I need to know if I'm missing out on what God has in store.
Time to read the Psalms. And pray. And seek counsel.
But I'm done just not doing anything. I'm done sitting around and waiting for changes to come. I need to act, possibly take a risk, and soon, because I need to know if I'm missing out on what God has in store.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Is it just me?
Two weeks of vacation and now I'm officially restless. I'm ready to go back to work. I was feeling totally refreshed and ready to hit the grindstone again on Wednesday, but on Friday as we drove home, the familiar weight, the sinking feeling of despair started coming back - not about work, but just about everything else right now.
I'm really starting to ask myself if I'm not just a colossal idiot. I spend so much time wondering when X or Y or Z is going to happen. Maybe it's time that I get off my duff and just make it happen. Maybe it's all right in front of me. Maybe I'm just blind.
I'm really starting to ask myself if I'm not just a colossal idiot. I spend so much time wondering when X or Y or Z is going to happen. Maybe it's time that I get off my duff and just make it happen. Maybe it's all right in front of me. Maybe I'm just blind.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Waste Not, Want Not
Today I called Comcast and told them to shut off cable TV. "What's the problem with the service? What's going on?" The woman on the other end sounded genuinely concerned.
"It sucks up too much time," I told her. "I just don't want it anymore."
There was this pause of silence on the other end of the line as she processed what must have been the unthinkable. And then she managed to persuade me to actually keep the cable activated but instead downgrade it to "limited" cable, which is apparently like 18 channels. Whatever. The cost of doing that versus keeping just internet was $2 less expensive (the cost for the internet itself almost doubles when it's not a bundle) so I just did it. I'm not planning on connecting the cable to the TV anyway, so yes, Comcast, I will gladly pay you less money for a service I won't use.
I packed up the cable box and remote control and took them into the Comcast store later in the day. I feel so liberated, not because cable TV was this huge drain on my time (it was) but more so because this was something I had identified in my life plan for the next year that was just a huge time-sucker, and it feels good to have taken a concrete step of action toward that plan. It gives me hope that I can actually achieve some of the things on my life plan this year. Now instead of watching TV on Saturday mornings or on weekday evenings I will read instead.
I know what you're thinking: shutting off his cable is a big achievement? Yes. It is. So is scheduling doctor and dentist appointments. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
"It sucks up too much time," I told her. "I just don't want it anymore."
There was this pause of silence on the other end of the line as she processed what must have been the unthinkable. And then she managed to persuade me to actually keep the cable activated but instead downgrade it to "limited" cable, which is apparently like 18 channels. Whatever. The cost of doing that versus keeping just internet was $2 less expensive (the cost for the internet itself almost doubles when it's not a bundle) so I just did it. I'm not planning on connecting the cable to the TV anyway, so yes, Comcast, I will gladly pay you less money for a service I won't use.
I packed up the cable box and remote control and took them into the Comcast store later in the day. I feel so liberated, not because cable TV was this huge drain on my time (it was) but more so because this was something I had identified in my life plan for the next year that was just a huge time-sucker, and it feels good to have taken a concrete step of action toward that plan. It gives me hope that I can actually achieve some of the things on my life plan this year. Now instead of watching TV on Saturday mornings or on weekday evenings I will read instead.
I know what you're thinking: shutting off his cable is a big achievement? Yes. It is. So is scheduling doctor and dentist appointments. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
1st Week of Vacay Already Half Over!
And there is still so much recharging to be done and rest to be had. The plan for now is to head either east or west this Friday for a short overnight jaunt, either to Eastern Washington or all the way to the coast, maybe somewhere along the Olympic Peninsula, which I have never actually circumnavigated.
The plan for the overnight jaunt is to shut off the Blackberry, take my Bible, a notebook, my journal, and a pen, and find a quiet place to sit outside and write, journal, and pray for about a day and a half. I had originally hoped on going up into the mountains, but since I don't really have the gear for that and don't really feel like spending the money on getting it right now, I will probably find a cheap cabin to rent somewhere and do that; unless, of course, the cost of renting a cabin for one night is equal to what it would cost to buy a tent and some basic camping gear - then I'm roughing it.
It has been really nice to not be getting up for work in the morning at the usual time, to sleep and wake up without an alarm, go to the gym, read a book (started Tim Keller's The Reason for God this week), and hang out with friends. I feel so much better, and apparently I must look it too because as I was leaving my apartment today the front desk girl told me I had my "relaxed Matt" face on. I wasn't aware there was a "wound-up Matt" face that I apparently wear for most of my days; something to pray about I guess.
In any case, I feel like this time needs to be used well in order to practice listening to God in quiet, doing some reflection and prayer over the next couple of years of life, and planning. Lots of life areas to hit up: work, community group, relationships, redemption, growth. Lots of heavy lifting but I am excited.
The plan for the overnight jaunt is to shut off the Blackberry, take my Bible, a notebook, my journal, and a pen, and find a quiet place to sit outside and write, journal, and pray for about a day and a half. I had originally hoped on going up into the mountains, but since I don't really have the gear for that and don't really feel like spending the money on getting it right now, I will probably find a cheap cabin to rent somewhere and do that; unless, of course, the cost of renting a cabin for one night is equal to what it would cost to buy a tent and some basic camping gear - then I'm roughing it.
It has been really nice to not be getting up for work in the morning at the usual time, to sleep and wake up without an alarm, go to the gym, read a book (started Tim Keller's The Reason for God this week), and hang out with friends. I feel so much better, and apparently I must look it too because as I was leaving my apartment today the front desk girl told me I had my "relaxed Matt" face on. I wasn't aware there was a "wound-up Matt" face that I apparently wear for most of my days; something to pray about I guess.
In any case, I feel like this time needs to be used well in order to practice listening to God in quiet, doing some reflection and prayer over the next couple of years of life, and planning. Lots of life areas to hit up: work, community group, relationships, redemption, growth. Lots of heavy lifting but I am excited.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
DISC
Just took a DISC Test:
Dominance: 28
Influence: 20
Steadiness: 8
Compliance: 44
The only thing that really surprises me is the Steadiness factor. I would have considered myself a more steady person than an 8. But hey, I guess the anal-retentiveness wins out over steadiness. Ha!
Dominance: 28
Influence: 20
Steadiness: 8
Compliance: 44
The only thing that really surprises me is the Steadiness factor. I would have considered myself a more steady person than an 8. But hey, I guess the anal-retentiveness wins out over steadiness. Ha!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Relief in Fragility
Even though Redemption Group is officially over, the sense of fragility that hung over all of life during that time has remained, in large part, intact. I am beginning to wonder if the Lord is trying to teach me something about the emotional state that I've held toward him for so long - a state of guarded trepidation and a lack of surrender. Lately it seems like all I know how to do anymore is collapse in surrender. And being able to do that is pretty amazing.
Jesus, I am continually in awe of the fact that you continue to put up with me, continue to pursue me, and continue to bless me even as I sprint in the other direction. So often these days I just don't know how to respond to Your incredible grace other than just weep with joy and gratitude, finding myself in a place that is almost comically childlike.
I have missed You. I'm so sorry for running. Give me a heart that runs to you, not away from you.
Jesus, I am continually in awe of the fact that you continue to put up with me, continue to pursue me, and continue to bless me even as I sprint in the other direction. So often these days I just don't know how to respond to Your incredible grace other than just weep with joy and gratitude, finding myself in a place that is almost comically childlike.
I have missed You. I'm so sorry for running. Give me a heart that runs to you, not away from you.
Monday, June 22, 2009
AHHHHHHHHHH
Holy freaking goodness.
I'm really trying to get this whole priorities-on-the-plate thing down, and all I can say is that it feels like the low priority stuff just fights all the more ferociously to steal the day.
I'm really trying to get this whole priorities-on-the-plate thing down, and all I can say is that it feels like the low priority stuff just fights all the more ferociously to steal the day.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Everything's Right
Quiet contentedness tonight. Just some time with Jesus. And the world and all its trials and trivialities melt away when I'm with Him.
Everything's right tonight.
Everything's right tonight.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Psalm 69
I had never really thought about it until this last week, when someone called me out on it and asked that I examine my heart about this, but I've realized something about the journey that I've been on: I am frustrated not with the situation, but with God.
I am angry with God.
Angry and frustrated at what just doesn't seem to be fair. Why me, God? Why have you allowed me to suffer this way for so long? And when is it going to be enough? I've done ABC and not done XYZ - what more do you want? There is a part of my heart that screams at heaven and shakes its fist in anger. I hate this. And I hate you for letting it go on so long. You say you love me but you continue to let me suffer. What have I done wrong?
And even as I delve deeper into that anger and take it to Him in honesty, there is a parallel sense of brokenness and raw emotion coming out of this that I don't know how to process. I'm struck more deeply than ever before in my life by the significance of the cross, humbled and shamed by its power and my undeserved state. I'm desperate for a way out, for redemption, and even as my heart screams in anger, it also screams in agony and pleads for deliverance.
Today I absolutely lost it in the middle of worship at church. Psalm 69 was the catalyst.
Help me God
For the water's come up to my neck
I sink down
I cannot stand without
I've gone blind
while waiting for Your voice
Tears run down
My lungs have had enough
Hear, hear me now
Don't hide Your face from me
now
Hear, hear me out
Don't hide Your face from me
now
It struck to the core of a heart hardened by anger and frustration like a hot knife through butter. I almost ended up on the floor, clinging to and sobbing into the back of the chair in front of me.
It's because even through everything - all the anger, all the frustration, all the pride, all the rebellion - there is still a scared little boy who just wants to call out to his Father for help. He cries out in fear and desperation, not confident that his Father will even answer him, terrified of His wrath but desperately in need of mercy and rescue. Love, the boy believes, must be earned - and it is fragile, easily shattered. And it's still not enough to make the boy let go of the thing he wants even more than his Father's smile.
And that is why the cross is so powerful.
Because the truth is that Jesus' love isn't fragile and it isn't easily shattered. And even as I come to Him like a child, kicking and screaming and refusing to let go of my own picture of redemption - refusing to surrender the deepest places - He still holds me securely in His arms and whispers to me until I calm down, even as I try to escape. Like a father restraining a child throwing a tantrum, he refuses to let me have it my way.
I've got you. Too long have you fought me. Too long have you held on to your own poorly conceived notion of redemption and transformation. Too long have you been content making mudpies in a slum. I have plans, and My perfect will shall be done. And I'll whisper as long as it takes.
I am angry with God.
Angry and frustrated at what just doesn't seem to be fair. Why me, God? Why have you allowed me to suffer this way for so long? And when is it going to be enough? I've done ABC and not done XYZ - what more do you want? There is a part of my heart that screams at heaven and shakes its fist in anger. I hate this. And I hate you for letting it go on so long. You say you love me but you continue to let me suffer. What have I done wrong?
And even as I delve deeper into that anger and take it to Him in honesty, there is a parallel sense of brokenness and raw emotion coming out of this that I don't know how to process. I'm struck more deeply than ever before in my life by the significance of the cross, humbled and shamed by its power and my undeserved state. I'm desperate for a way out, for redemption, and even as my heart screams in anger, it also screams in agony and pleads for deliverance.
Today I absolutely lost it in the middle of worship at church. Psalm 69 was the catalyst.
Help me God
For the water's come up to my neck
I sink down
I cannot stand without
I've gone blind
while waiting for Your voice
Tears run down
My lungs have had enough
Hear, hear me now
Don't hide Your face from me
now
Hear, hear me out
Don't hide Your face from me
now
It struck to the core of a heart hardened by anger and frustration like a hot knife through butter. I almost ended up on the floor, clinging to and sobbing into the back of the chair in front of me.
It's because even through everything - all the anger, all the frustration, all the pride, all the rebellion - there is still a scared little boy who just wants to call out to his Father for help. He cries out in fear and desperation, not confident that his Father will even answer him, terrified of His wrath but desperately in need of mercy and rescue. Love, the boy believes, must be earned - and it is fragile, easily shattered. And it's still not enough to make the boy let go of the thing he wants even more than his Father's smile.
And that is why the cross is so powerful.
Because the truth is that Jesus' love isn't fragile and it isn't easily shattered. And even as I come to Him like a child, kicking and screaming and refusing to let go of my own picture of redemption - refusing to surrender the deepest places - He still holds me securely in His arms and whispers to me until I calm down, even as I try to escape. Like a father restraining a child throwing a tantrum, he refuses to let me have it my way.
I've got you. Too long have you fought me. Too long have you held on to your own poorly conceived notion of redemption and transformation. Too long have you been content making mudpies in a slum. I have plans, and My perfect will shall be done. And I'll whisper as long as it takes.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
You know what Jesus? You're pretty friggin' awesome.
Evidence of God's grace: knowing you're being used by Him less than an hour after asking Him to use you where you're at.
That's the God I serve.
That's the God I serve.
Trial
It's timely and providential that we hit this series at Mars Hill, Trial, at this current period in my life. I am in a trial. I wasn't when we started the series a couple of months ago, but I sure am now.
Life is just weighty right now. I can't explain everything making it up because it's just too big to really capture it all, but I've felt this enormous weight just hanging over my heart during the past month. Every day seems excruciating and every night is lonely. I have so much time to myself these days that I am left alone with my thoughts and the issues on my heart, most of which are difficult to examine. I think God has deliberately removed a lot of old comforts from my life, things I used to spend time on in order to distract myself from how miserable I would be if I were alone.
But lately there's nowhere to hide and I'm understanding what a pastor told me a few months ago - that processing all of this, working through all these issues, would be the most difficult thing I'd ever done. That it would hurt beyond anything I'd been through. I think I'm there. And he was right - it's like having a slow burning fire inside you that you can't snuff out because you can't reach it; it just slowly scorches you from the inside out.
And all I want is comfort and relief; but Jesus apparently has other plans in mind. He's here in the suffering, yes; I see His face through the pain and He's here in the storm. But he has something larger in mind than just my comfort. He's after my sanctification through this. Transformation.
Jesus, help me suffer well. My will is for comfort and release; but not my will - Your will be done in this storm. Command the waves, let them wash over the edges of my boat if need be; let the wind howl; let the rain fall. Let me only be safe in Your arms and in the promise of Your regeneration of this sickly heart. If it isn't for me to know what Your purposes here are - let me only make much of You while the storm rages.
Life is just weighty right now. I can't explain everything making it up because it's just too big to really capture it all, but I've felt this enormous weight just hanging over my heart during the past month. Every day seems excruciating and every night is lonely. I have so much time to myself these days that I am left alone with my thoughts and the issues on my heart, most of which are difficult to examine. I think God has deliberately removed a lot of old comforts from my life, things I used to spend time on in order to distract myself from how miserable I would be if I were alone.
But lately there's nowhere to hide and I'm understanding what a pastor told me a few months ago - that processing all of this, working through all these issues, would be the most difficult thing I'd ever done. That it would hurt beyond anything I'd been through. I think I'm there. And he was right - it's like having a slow burning fire inside you that you can't snuff out because you can't reach it; it just slowly scorches you from the inside out.
And all I want is comfort and relief; but Jesus apparently has other plans in mind. He's here in the suffering, yes; I see His face through the pain and He's here in the storm. But he has something larger in mind than just my comfort. He's after my sanctification through this. Transformation.
Jesus, help me suffer well. My will is for comfort and release; but not my will - Your will be done in this storm. Command the waves, let them wash over the edges of my boat if need be; let the wind howl; let the rain fall. Let me only be safe in Your arms and in the promise of Your regeneration of this sickly heart. If it isn't for me to know what Your purposes here are - let me only make much of You while the storm rages.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sabbath
I desperately need some time to sabbath and recharge this weekend. I'm running on an empty tank in just about every area - personally, spiritually, relationally, and work-wise. I'm just totally spent. It's been like this for a while and I can't seem to get back to normal.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Don't Look Back
"The turning of the Israelites hearts toward Egypt at Mount Sinai was merely the culmination of many longing looks over their shoulders that began almost the day they left Egypt."
-Redemption
We look at the Israelites' impatience for Moses to come down from Mount Sinai and their subsequent fashioning of their own idol as hilariously idiotic. How could they be so stupid as to melt down all their gold and make a cow out of it, then fall down in worship before it? Surely we are not so foolish.
But oh, we are. And I am.
Every impure thought that I relish and then allow to linger before finally brushing off; every moment spent thinking about how badly I want the deep, sinful longings of my heart to be fulfilled; every "second look" I allow myself - these are the glances I throw over my shoulder at my Egypt. They are not innocent. They are not okay. And they are not secrets to Him.
They are the chains that hold me here. And I am a fool to think that life would be better if I went back to Egypt. I am so pathetically content making mudpies in my slum that I cannot fathom the idea of making sandcastles on the ocean shore. Mudpies are safe - sandcastles are large, imposing, and risky.
Leaving Egypt is risky. Leaving Egypt is difficult. And leaving Egypt scares the living hell out of me.
But will I surrender these chains in repentance? Will I trust Jesus to part the seas that stand before me as the Enemy bears down in the distance? Will I then descend to the dark ocean floor and trust that He will keep the mighty waters at bay? And once on the other side, safe from my pursuer, will I trust Him to provide just enough, each day, to make it through? Or will I continue to throw glances over my shoulder at the very bondage that my gracious Redeemer is trying to save me from?
He has promised redemption, renewal, and recreation. So why am I still so preoccupied with slavery, stagnation, and death? In the stillness every night I can hear Him calling.
Run. Throw off your chains, trust me, keep your eyes on me, and run. Don't look back.
Just run.
-Redemption
We look at the Israelites' impatience for Moses to come down from Mount Sinai and their subsequent fashioning of their own idol as hilariously idiotic. How could they be so stupid as to melt down all their gold and make a cow out of it, then fall down in worship before it? Surely we are not so foolish.
But oh, we are. And I am.
Every impure thought that I relish and then allow to linger before finally brushing off; every moment spent thinking about how badly I want the deep, sinful longings of my heart to be fulfilled; every "second look" I allow myself - these are the glances I throw over my shoulder at my Egypt. They are not innocent. They are not okay. And they are not secrets to Him.
They are the chains that hold me here. And I am a fool to think that life would be better if I went back to Egypt. I am so pathetically content making mudpies in my slum that I cannot fathom the idea of making sandcastles on the ocean shore. Mudpies are safe - sandcastles are large, imposing, and risky.
Leaving Egypt is risky. Leaving Egypt is difficult. And leaving Egypt scares the living hell out of me.
But will I surrender these chains in repentance? Will I trust Jesus to part the seas that stand before me as the Enemy bears down in the distance? Will I then descend to the dark ocean floor and trust that He will keep the mighty waters at bay? And once on the other side, safe from my pursuer, will I trust Him to provide just enough, each day, to make it through? Or will I continue to throw glances over my shoulder at the very bondage that my gracious Redeemer is trying to save me from?
He has promised redemption, renewal, and recreation. So why am I still so preoccupied with slavery, stagnation, and death? In the stillness every night I can hear Him calling.
Run. Throw off your chains, trust me, keep your eyes on me, and run. Don't look back.
Just run.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Barter for Grace
Oh Jesus - how can you possibly forgive me for what I've done? Even after years of knowing you, years of chasing after you and years of stumbles along the way - how can I still not grasp the concept of grace? Somehow I always come crawling back to you with my dirty rags, holding up worthless treasures, trying to barter for your grace in futility. Futile because I don't have to barter.
How can you give this grace to me for nothing? Don't you understand what I've done?
Yet you do understand.
And that's why I don't understand your grace.
How can you give this grace to me for nothing? Don't you understand what I've done?
Yet you do understand.
And that's why I don't understand your grace.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Start a War
Are you in a war with sin or a war against God? Think carefully.
My own conviction recently is that I have gone to war against God rather than going to war against my sin. I've allowed my heart to be taken captive by sinful desires rather than fighting for the deeper, more fulfilling desires that He has planted there. Not only have I allowed it to be taken captive - sometimes I've thrown it straight into sin without a thought.
The ensuing numbness is the worst part. I don't think that it's a coincidence that numbness is a side effect of death and death is the wages of sin.
My selfishness is truly astounding. Truly.
I fail to realize most days that I am born into a war. The world is at war, and our hearts are both the battlefield and the prize. Sometimes we ignore the war. Sometimes we call a cease fire for the sake of creating a false peace. And sometimes we need to start a war and break the cease fire. Rock our own boat.
It's time to start a war.
My own conviction recently is that I have gone to war against God rather than going to war against my sin. I've allowed my heart to be taken captive by sinful desires rather than fighting for the deeper, more fulfilling desires that He has planted there. Not only have I allowed it to be taken captive - sometimes I've thrown it straight into sin without a thought.
The ensuing numbness is the worst part. I don't think that it's a coincidence that numbness is a side effect of death and death is the wages of sin.
My selfishness is truly astounding. Truly.
I fail to realize most days that I am born into a war. The world is at war, and our hearts are both the battlefield and the prize. Sometimes we ignore the war. Sometimes we call a cease fire for the sake of creating a false peace. And sometimes we need to start a war and break the cease fire. Rock our own boat.
It's time to start a war.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
There Will Be a Day
"9After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, 10and crying out with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!" 11And all the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen."
13Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?" 14I said to him, "Sir, you know." And he said to me, "These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
15"Therefore they are before the throne of God,
and serve him day and night in his temple;
and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.
16 They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.
17For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.""
-Revelation 7:9-17
That imagery has been so powerful for me over the past couple of days as I've thought about it. God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
There will be a day when God wipes this all away. There will be a day when I finally, finally get to kneel before my Jesus, draped in the white robes that He clothed me in, and kiss His feet with tears streaming down my face. There will be a day with no shame, no guilt, and no filth. I long for the day when He will reach down and wipe the tears from my eyes and say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." I long to know and understand who and what He sees when He looks at me. I want to see Him in all His unveiled glory, on His throne, reigning as the king that He is.
And even today my heart is broken with gratitude for this grace. What could He possibly have seen in this dirty, depraved man? What could I possibly have to offer this King of Kings? How could He possibly be so good? How could He trade my rags for his royal robes?
Jesus, how could You possibly love me that much?
There will be a day
with no more tears
no more pain
and no more fears
There will be a day
when the burdens of this place
will be no more
we'll see Jesus face to face.
There will be a day
He will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
-Jeremy Camp
13Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?" 14I said to him, "Sir, you know." And he said to me, "These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
15"Therefore they are before the throne of God,
and serve him day and night in his temple;
and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.
16 They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.
17For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.""
-Revelation 7:9-17
That imagery has been so powerful for me over the past couple of days as I've thought about it. God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
There will be a day when God wipes this all away. There will be a day when I finally, finally get to kneel before my Jesus, draped in the white robes that He clothed me in, and kiss His feet with tears streaming down my face. There will be a day with no shame, no guilt, and no filth. I long for the day when He will reach down and wipe the tears from my eyes and say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." I long to know and understand who and what He sees when He looks at me. I want to see Him in all His unveiled glory, on His throne, reigning as the king that He is.
And even today my heart is broken with gratitude for this grace. What could He possibly have seen in this dirty, depraved man? What could I possibly have to offer this King of Kings? How could He possibly be so good? How could He trade my rags for his royal robes?
Jesus, how could You possibly love me that much?
There will be a day
with no more tears
no more pain
and no more fears
There will be a day
when the burdens of this place
will be no more
we'll see Jesus face to face.
There will be a day
He will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
-Jeremy Camp
God Delights in Forgiving Us
Thinking today about the fact that God actually delights in forgiving us. Have you ever thought about that? I've always had this image of God begrudgingly forgiving me, impatiently wondering when I'll finally figure it out and stop screwing up so much.
But no - he actually delights in forgiving us and extending His mercy and grace to us. That's how incredibly good He is. It pleases Him to forgive us, wash us, and recreate us.
I'm kind of bowled over by that thought today.
But no - he actually delights in forgiving us and extending His mercy and grace to us. That's how incredibly good He is. It pleases Him to forgive us, wash us, and recreate us.
I'm kind of bowled over by that thought today.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Reverse-Engineer Your Life
I've realized that lately I have lost sight of what is really important in my life. I haven't placed enough emphasis on the Gospel, on Gospel community, and on planning ahead, on taking real chances. Looking at a pareto of the things I spend my time on would be pretty embarrassing.
Work in particular has consumed too much. Work and wealth have too long been my idols. I sacrifice everything for their sake. Work forms the paradigm for the answer to every "How are you doing?" and hangs over every part of every day, even when I'm not there. And because it has become everything, it can't be anything to me when I'm actually there - I'm too drained from thinking about it all the time, from feeding it all the time, from trying to do it all. There is a fine line between working well, building your career with purpose, and simply working way too much on all the wrong things. I'm on the wrong side of that line.
The result is that I have found myself in this bizarre vacuum of just making it through each successive day. No real goal in sight, no 5-year plan; no 1-year plan, for that matter. Maybe that's why it's been so hard to get out of bed lately. Without real purpose we eventually wither. I have felt like I'm withering. Rather than wait around for opportunities at work to come to me, it's time to get out and chase them. Abandon fear of looking like an idiot.
I haven't allowed Christ to cause me to really risk too much because I'm too comfortable. Change is good - as long as it's the change I wanted and planned for. Otherwise it's just too scary. I like feeling like I'm in control, and that needs to change.
It's time to really go out on a limb and chase the things that I've always thought were unattainable because they weren't "safe"- personally, professionally, relationally, and spiritually. I need to reverse-engineer my life and live it with greater purpose. Intentionality.
Pastor Tim's sermon at Mars Hill Downtown today was incredibly convicting. It's true: no one dying alone in a nursing home wishes that they had spent more time at the office, amassed greater wealth, or collected more material possessions. I don't want that to be me.
Here goes. Jesus, establish my steps.
Work in particular has consumed too much. Work and wealth have too long been my idols. I sacrifice everything for their sake. Work forms the paradigm for the answer to every "How are you doing?" and hangs over every part of every day, even when I'm not there. And because it has become everything, it can't be anything to me when I'm actually there - I'm too drained from thinking about it all the time, from feeding it all the time, from trying to do it all. There is a fine line between working well, building your career with purpose, and simply working way too much on all the wrong things. I'm on the wrong side of that line.
The result is that I have found myself in this bizarre vacuum of just making it through each successive day. No real goal in sight, no 5-year plan; no 1-year plan, for that matter. Maybe that's why it's been so hard to get out of bed lately. Without real purpose we eventually wither. I have felt like I'm withering. Rather than wait around for opportunities at work to come to me, it's time to get out and chase them. Abandon fear of looking like an idiot.
I haven't allowed Christ to cause me to really risk too much because I'm too comfortable. Change is good - as long as it's the change I wanted and planned for. Otherwise it's just too scary. I like feeling like I'm in control, and that needs to change.
It's time to really go out on a limb and chase the things that I've always thought were unattainable because they weren't "safe"- personally, professionally, relationally, and spiritually. I need to reverse-engineer my life and live it with greater purpose. Intentionality.
Pastor Tim's sermon at Mars Hill Downtown today was incredibly convicting. It's true: no one dying alone in a nursing home wishes that they had spent more time at the office, amassed greater wealth, or collected more material possessions. I don't want that to be me.
Here goes. Jesus, establish my steps.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Stop Painting.
Let me ask you something about your suffering:
Do you think that your obedience to God obligates Him to fix you? To make your suffering stop? To grant you the fulfillment of your wildest daydreams?
Is your motivation for following Jesus based on your concept of redemption instead of His? Are you dreaming up your own picture of what the world is going to look like when you meet up with that light at the end of the tunnel?
Are you in love with healing . . . or holiness?
Really ask yourself that. What do you really want? Do you want to be more like Jesus - or do you just want the picture you've painted, and you think that if you just obey Him long enough, hold out long enough, try hard enough - He'll give it to you?
Are you prepared to accept the possibility that what He's going to give you at the end of all this suffering won't look a thing like what you've been expecting?
Jesus isn't interested in granting your wishes. He's interested in His glory and giving you what He knows you really need - Himself. And there will be a whole lot more that comes with that, more than you could ever want or imagine. Psalm 37:4 promises us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord, He will give us the desires of our hearts - the very desires of our innermost being, the unfulfilled longings that keep us awake at night and weigh us down all day. He'll give them to you in rich fullness.
But first you have to let go of your painting and put down your brush.
Do you think that your obedience to God obligates Him to fix you? To make your suffering stop? To grant you the fulfillment of your wildest daydreams?
Is your motivation for following Jesus based on your concept of redemption instead of His? Are you dreaming up your own picture of what the world is going to look like when you meet up with that light at the end of the tunnel?
Are you in love with healing . . . or holiness?
Really ask yourself that. What do you really want? Do you want to be more like Jesus - or do you just want the picture you've painted, and you think that if you just obey Him long enough, hold out long enough, try hard enough - He'll give it to you?
Are you prepared to accept the possibility that what He's going to give you at the end of all this suffering won't look a thing like what you've been expecting?
Jesus isn't interested in granting your wishes. He's interested in His glory and giving you what He knows you really need - Himself. And there will be a whole lot more that comes with that, more than you could ever want or imagine. Psalm 37:4 promises us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord, He will give us the desires of our hearts - the very desires of our innermost being, the unfulfilled longings that keep us awake at night and weigh us down all day. He'll give them to you in rich fullness.
But first you have to let go of your painting and put down your brush.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The Crucible
The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and the Lord tests hearts.
-Proverbs 17:3
Back in the day they used to remove impurities from precious metals using a crucible. They would put the ore into the furnace and heat it until it literally melted into a molten form. When this happens, all the impurities in the metal separate out and float up to the top - they could then be skimmed off and removed. The metal was then re-heated, re-melted, and the process repeated. Over and over.
This is what life with Jesus is like. Many people think that Christianity is about solving all your personal problems, that Jesus exists to somehow make us happy, and that God is interested in playing a part in our story.
It's not.
Christianity is about a God who sacrificed everything to ransom you so that you could play a role in HIS story - and so that he could re-create you as you were originally meant to be. The experience of being refined by fire this way - being melted so that the impurities and imperfections rise to the top and are exposed - is excruciating. It's humbling. It's exposure in the most naked sense of the word.
And that is God's purpose in it.
God is not interested in my happiness, my comfort, or my security - though he does want to give those things through himself to us. But the purpose of his existence is not to provide those things to me and the purpose of my life is not to seek those things.
Because of Christ's sacrifice in our stead, we are covered in His righteousness. This means that when we surrender ourselves to Jesus, God literally sees us as he sees Jesus. 2 Corinthians 5:21 "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."
Reading that stirs such incredible emotions in me - the concept that the God of the universe looks at me, this filthy man, and sees nothing but purity. The image he sees does not conform to the reality that I see.
And that is exactly why we go into the crucible.
The crucible - the sanctification through suffering with Jesus - is necessary because what God sees must become reality. We must be transformed into greater likeness of Jesus because we belong to him and he is holy. When you suffer, God is literally molding you to conform to what he already sees.
Does that concept not make your mouth drop open in awe?
-Proverbs 17:3
Back in the day they used to remove impurities from precious metals using a crucible. They would put the ore into the furnace and heat it until it literally melted into a molten form. When this happens, all the impurities in the metal separate out and float up to the top - they could then be skimmed off and removed. The metal was then re-heated, re-melted, and the process repeated. Over and over.
This is what life with Jesus is like. Many people think that Christianity is about solving all your personal problems, that Jesus exists to somehow make us happy, and that God is interested in playing a part in our story.
It's not.
Christianity is about a God who sacrificed everything to ransom you so that you could play a role in HIS story - and so that he could re-create you as you were originally meant to be. The experience of being refined by fire this way - being melted so that the impurities and imperfections rise to the top and are exposed - is excruciating. It's humbling. It's exposure in the most naked sense of the word.
And that is God's purpose in it.
God is not interested in my happiness, my comfort, or my security - though he does want to give those things through himself to us. But the purpose of his existence is not to provide those things to me and the purpose of my life is not to seek those things.
Because of Christ's sacrifice in our stead, we are covered in His righteousness. This means that when we surrender ourselves to Jesus, God literally sees us as he sees Jesus. 2 Corinthians 5:21 "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."
Reading that stirs such incredible emotions in me - the concept that the God of the universe looks at me, this filthy man, and sees nothing but purity. The image he sees does not conform to the reality that I see.
And that is exactly why we go into the crucible.
The crucible - the sanctification through suffering with Jesus - is necessary because what God sees must become reality. We must be transformed into greater likeness of Jesus because we belong to him and he is holy. When you suffer, God is literally molding you to conform to what he already sees.
Does that concept not make your mouth drop open in awe?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Temptation & Suffering
Since this weekend I've been thinking about this kind of earth-shattering idea regarding temptation. You ready?
Experiencing intense temptation is not a sign that you have not made progress. It is not a sign that you are not a changed person.
Instead, it is an invitation to suffer and be sanctified through Jesus, by Jesus, so that you can become more like Jesus. Jesus suffered in temptation, and Jesus identifies with our temptation. So when pain and temptation come, run to him with it. Trust that he will fill the vacuum left behind when you stop running to your own functional comfort mechanisms.
This is an idea that has been difficult for me to understand because I tend to so stringently measure my "success" or "progress" by the level of temptation and suffering that I experience. Days when I am tempted frequently or suffer much become "bad" days and I automatically assume God is somehow not present in those kinds of days. Days when I am not tempted or do not suffer become the "good" days. This is such a false dichotomy.
God is with me in my pain as much as he is with me in my joy. The day that I am tempted or suffer much is not a "bad" day - it might certainly be a painful one, but it is a very good day in the sense that I have been invited to suffer alongside Jesus, to be sanctified and further renewed to become more like the man I was created to be. This is what it means to find joy in suffering.
Those moments of intense temptation and pain - those are the moments when Jesus can show up in the most unexpected and powerful ways. The moments when we are weakest are the moments in which his strength becomes perfect - and I am so, so grateful for that truth.
Experiencing intense temptation is not a sign that you have not made progress. It is not a sign that you are not a changed person.
Instead, it is an invitation to suffer and be sanctified through Jesus, by Jesus, so that you can become more like Jesus. Jesus suffered in temptation, and Jesus identifies with our temptation. So when pain and temptation come, run to him with it. Trust that he will fill the vacuum left behind when you stop running to your own functional comfort mechanisms.
This is an idea that has been difficult for me to understand because I tend to so stringently measure my "success" or "progress" by the level of temptation and suffering that I experience. Days when I am tempted frequently or suffer much become "bad" days and I automatically assume God is somehow not present in those kinds of days. Days when I am not tempted or do not suffer become the "good" days. This is such a false dichotomy.
God is with me in my pain as much as he is with me in my joy. The day that I am tempted or suffer much is not a "bad" day - it might certainly be a painful one, but it is a very good day in the sense that I have been invited to suffer alongside Jesus, to be sanctified and further renewed to become more like the man I was created to be. This is what it means to find joy in suffering.
Those moments of intense temptation and pain - those are the moments when Jesus can show up in the most unexpected and powerful ways. The moments when we are weakest are the moments in which his strength becomes perfect - and I am so, so grateful for that truth.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Redemption
Today we had the Redemption Group Weekend Intensive. Friday night session, followed by an all-day Saturday session. I am tired and worn-out but still need to jot down a few thoughts.
-Redemption is for everyone: even our group leaders and co-leaders are participants in the group and in the process of sharing stories. Jesus is the propitiation for us all.
-Perception is everything: I heard multiple stories today that I would have sworn were the same as mine until the storyteller finished his tale. Many of us come from similar backgrounds but have perceived those backgrounds differently and therefore reacted very differently to similar upbringings or childhood circumstances.
-God will fill the vacuum: sometimes it is as simple as stopping what you're doing and trusting that God will fill the vacuum that is left when you do that.
-Jesus is mighty to save: Enough said. My God is already victorious over my sin and every part of my story.
-It's not about you: Life is not about your story; rather, your story is a brick in the mural of God's great design. You tell His story - he does not tell yours.
-Redemption is for everyone: even our group leaders and co-leaders are participants in the group and in the process of sharing stories. Jesus is the propitiation for us all.
-Perception is everything: I heard multiple stories today that I would have sworn were the same as mine until the storyteller finished his tale. Many of us come from similar backgrounds but have perceived those backgrounds differently and therefore reacted very differently to similar upbringings or childhood circumstances.
-God will fill the vacuum: sometimes it is as simple as stopping what you're doing and trusting that God will fill the vacuum that is left when you do that.
-Jesus is mighty to save: Enough said. My God is already victorious over my sin and every part of my story.
-It's not about you: Life is not about your story; rather, your story is a brick in the mural of God's great design. You tell His story - he does not tell yours.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Who You Really Are
There is so much going on in life right now that it's hard to keep up - and in a good way. Jesus is doing a lot in my life and in my family and it's difficult to even believe it. Change is everywhere, and it's change in the right direction. It's awkward and weird and painful, but it's the right direction.
Easter was a whole new experience this year. Mars Hill Downtown had record attendance and we baptized almost 30 people. Easter has always been a good day, but for some reason it wasn't until this year that it really moved me in a way that it hadn't before. Maybe it's because I have experienced so much of God's grace and redemption this year. He has wrought quite a bit of change in life over the past 14 months, most of which has not been easy. But in it all I can see His redemptive hand and mission, and even though it's painful most of the time I am totally on board with riding this ride. I know that the only thing that matches the incredible nature of the destination is the journey itself.
Most of all I am simply grateful that He continues to put up with me, continues to humble me, continues to impress upon me the fact that nothing I can do will make Him love me more. This past week, in the days leading up to Good Friday, that particular knowledge hit me especially hard and completely broke me. One day I was listening to a podcast about a specific issue God is working on in my heart and in my life and out of nowhere I just broke down and sobbed, suddenly and completely overcome with the impression of His grace and mercy toward me in the midst of my horrible brokenness - overcome with the sense of awe that flows from being loved so completely and so unconditionally. More and more I'm just overwhelmed by the idea that God would turn His face toward me and rescue me from myself - I still don't understand why. What did I have to offer? The answer of "nothing" still just doesn't compute to me even though my heart knows it's true.
But I know that's the core of what He's working on right now - getting me to fully understand who I am in His eyes, wiping away all of the filth and falsehood that has clouded that understanding for so many years. My value stems not from who I myself am or what I have to offer, but because of what Jesus has clothed me in through His own sacrifice. How different I would be if I truly understood how precious I am to Him and lived out of that security - that's where I want to be! So much of what I am now sorting through stems from that false image of myself. But God is faithful to finish everything He starts and I just can't wait to take another step. It's like every day you discover who you really are all over again.
I grew up not knowing whether I was precious to someone, with the omnipresent fear that if i simply did something wrong or displeased him, my father would stop loving me. The most horrifying words I ever heard were, "I'm very disappointed in you." And those words and that fear dug in deep, opening up fissures that refused to close again.
And now Jesus stands at those fissures and counters all the lies and false perceptions with His eternal truth: I delight in you. You are precious to me - I sacrificed everything to get you back. You bear My image. Now come to Me and let Me show you who you really are.
Easter was a whole new experience this year. Mars Hill Downtown had record attendance and we baptized almost 30 people. Easter has always been a good day, but for some reason it wasn't until this year that it really moved me in a way that it hadn't before. Maybe it's because I have experienced so much of God's grace and redemption this year. He has wrought quite a bit of change in life over the past 14 months, most of which has not been easy. But in it all I can see His redemptive hand and mission, and even though it's painful most of the time I am totally on board with riding this ride. I know that the only thing that matches the incredible nature of the destination is the journey itself.
Most of all I am simply grateful that He continues to put up with me, continues to humble me, continues to impress upon me the fact that nothing I can do will make Him love me more. This past week, in the days leading up to Good Friday, that particular knowledge hit me especially hard and completely broke me. One day I was listening to a podcast about a specific issue God is working on in my heart and in my life and out of nowhere I just broke down and sobbed, suddenly and completely overcome with the impression of His grace and mercy toward me in the midst of my horrible brokenness - overcome with the sense of awe that flows from being loved so completely and so unconditionally. More and more I'm just overwhelmed by the idea that God would turn His face toward me and rescue me from myself - I still don't understand why. What did I have to offer? The answer of "nothing" still just doesn't compute to me even though my heart knows it's true.
But I know that's the core of what He's working on right now - getting me to fully understand who I am in His eyes, wiping away all of the filth and falsehood that has clouded that understanding for so many years. My value stems not from who I myself am or what I have to offer, but because of what Jesus has clothed me in through His own sacrifice. How different I would be if I truly understood how precious I am to Him and lived out of that security - that's where I want to be! So much of what I am now sorting through stems from that false image of myself. But God is faithful to finish everything He starts and I just can't wait to take another step. It's like every day you discover who you really are all over again.
I grew up not knowing whether I was precious to someone, with the omnipresent fear that if i simply did something wrong or displeased him, my father would stop loving me. The most horrifying words I ever heard were, "I'm very disappointed in you." And those words and that fear dug in deep, opening up fissures that refused to close again.
And now Jesus stands at those fissures and counters all the lies and false perceptions with His eternal truth: I delight in you. You are precious to me - I sacrificed everything to get you back. You bear My image. Now come to Me and let Me show you who you really are.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
The Story
I will never fully understand the depth of Jesus' grace toward me. I still do not understand why he hung there on that cross for me. What on earth did he have to gain?
What I do understand is the feeling of gratitude and humility that comes with scraping the surface of that understanding of grace - the incredible sense of naked, shameless glory that flows from that wooden cross and covers everything I've ever done, thought, imagined or said. I understand what it feels like to be clean. And to stand in the presence of a holiness that I cannot even fully comprehend. There is freedom there, in that sense of your own smallness, your filth, your inability to measure up.
Someday, I hope that I get to have the opportunity to share my story. My real Gospel story. It's not one that many people know, not even in my own family. But I hope that someday I get the chance and the strength to stand up and tell everyone what Jesus has done - without shame and guilt, without fear. I hope that someday I get the chance to tell someone in that situation that there is hope, that there is a way out, that there is another life. That there are choices. That it will not be easy - it will be excruciating - but that it is worth it. That I get to end my story by pointing at Him and say, "This man - this man is the reason for all that I am. This man is the answer and redemption you are so desperately begging for." Some say we are in denial, and I would say that is true. The life we are called to live is one of daily denial - denial of that which comes most naturally in favor of obedience. I want to be a slave to Jesus Christ - because as his slave I will never be more free.
There was once a time when I was afraid to tell my story to anyone. Now I am afraid to tell my story to everyone. What would it look like to live that way?
I want to be used to tell His story, even if it's only in some small way. I want to see someone else set free from the prison I once lived in. Please - if only once, if only for some short moment before I die - let me see the fruit of my life's testament to You. And let that testament be glorifying of the One who is the Deliverer, the Redeemer, the Author and Perfecter, and the Way.
What I hope is the final stretch of this road is beginning. Old wounds will be reopened. We lie to ourselves when we say that time heals all wounds; it doesn't. It only presses a "pause" button. And that is why, in some ways, I never made it past first grade. This road will require going back as far as I can, to the time and place where everything started.
It is a poetic irony that, so often, we must go back to the beginning in order to reach the end.
What I do understand is the feeling of gratitude and humility that comes with scraping the surface of that understanding of grace - the incredible sense of naked, shameless glory that flows from that wooden cross and covers everything I've ever done, thought, imagined or said. I understand what it feels like to be clean. And to stand in the presence of a holiness that I cannot even fully comprehend. There is freedom there, in that sense of your own smallness, your filth, your inability to measure up.
Someday, I hope that I get to have the opportunity to share my story. My real Gospel story. It's not one that many people know, not even in my own family. But I hope that someday I get the chance and the strength to stand up and tell everyone what Jesus has done - without shame and guilt, without fear. I hope that someday I get the chance to tell someone in that situation that there is hope, that there is a way out, that there is another life. That there are choices. That it will not be easy - it will be excruciating - but that it is worth it. That I get to end my story by pointing at Him and say, "This man - this man is the reason for all that I am. This man is the answer and redemption you are so desperately begging for." Some say we are in denial, and I would say that is true. The life we are called to live is one of daily denial - denial of that which comes most naturally in favor of obedience. I want to be a slave to Jesus Christ - because as his slave I will never be more free.
There was once a time when I was afraid to tell my story to anyone. Now I am afraid to tell my story to everyone. What would it look like to live that way?
I want to be used to tell His story, even if it's only in some small way. I want to see someone else set free from the prison I once lived in. Please - if only once, if only for some short moment before I die - let me see the fruit of my life's testament to You. And let that testament be glorifying of the One who is the Deliverer, the Redeemer, the Author and Perfecter, and the Way.
What I hope is the final stretch of this road is beginning. Old wounds will be reopened. We lie to ourselves when we say that time heals all wounds; it doesn't. It only presses a "pause" button. And that is why, in some ways, I never made it past first grade. This road will require going back as far as I can, to the time and place where everything started.
It is a poetic irony that, so often, we must go back to the beginning in order to reach the end.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Despair.com
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Compass Points
There are times when you know that God is doing something very big in your life but you can't quite see the whole picture. Times when you don't quite know what the end destination is going to look like, but when you simply know you need to charge forward as quickly as you can. This is one of those times.
I think that things are going to change very radically in the next year. And it's not all going to be change that's easy to accept or easy to walk through. But it will be good. Even in the pain and discomfort, God is good and gracious. That much I know.
I think that things are going to change very radically in the next year. And it's not all going to be change that's easy to accept or easy to walk through. But it will be good. Even in the pain and discomfort, God is good and gracious. That much I know.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Let's Go.
I met with one of my pastors today and had a good talk about the current state of things. It was tremendously encouraging to talk with someone who has walked this road before me, who knew exactly what questions to ask, who is now standing on the other side of the ravine, and who assures me that this ravine is, indeed, passable.
The road ahead is going to be long, difficult, uncomfortable, and painful. It's a road I've walked for years, and one that seems to extend itself with every step. But I can see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, and I have renewed energy determination to start sprinting.
It might sound odd, but I am actually looking forward to the pain, discomfort, and weakness - because they are signs of sanctification; I will be reminded that in my weakness His strength is made perfect. My joy is in my suffering.
Let the rain fall.
Let the thunder roll.
Let the lightning strike.
Let the foundations of my feeble world be shaken and shattered.
And let a new creation spring up.
I am grateful beyond words for the community that has been placed around me here at Mars Hill.
The road ahead is going to be long, difficult, uncomfortable, and painful. It's a road I've walked for years, and one that seems to extend itself with every step. But I can see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, and I have renewed energy determination to start sprinting.
It might sound odd, but I am actually looking forward to the pain, discomfort, and weakness - because they are signs of sanctification; I will be reminded that in my weakness His strength is made perfect. My joy is in my suffering.
Let the rain fall.
Let the thunder roll.
Let the lightning strike.
Let the foundations of my feeble world be shaken and shattered.
And let a new creation spring up.
I am grateful beyond words for the community that has been placed around me here at Mars Hill.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Recycle
Today I got chastised at the blood bank for tossing the slip of paper they give you at the end into a wastebasket rather than the recycling bin, which I couldn't even see from where I was. The lady was visibly upset. She insisted on taking my can of juice from me at the end to make sure it ended up in the recycling bin and not the garbage.
Only in Seattle.
Only in Seattle.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
War
"Of course a war is entertaining. The immediate fear and suffering of the humans is a legitimate and pleasing refreshment for our myriads of toiling workers. But what permanent good does it do us unless we make use of it for bringing souls to Our Father Below? When I see the temporal suffering of humans who finally escape us, I feel as if I had been allowed to taste the first course of a rich banquet and then denied all the rest. It is worse than not to have tasted it at all. The Enemy, true to His barbarous methods of warfare, allows us to see the short misery of His favourites only to tantalize and torment us — to mock the incessant hunger, which, during this present phase of great conflict, His blockade is admittedly imposing."
-Screwtape to Wormwood, C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters
-Screwtape to Wormwood, C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters
Monday, March 16, 2009
Restoration
"Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, and strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen."
1 Peter 5:8-11
Never has this passage stood out to me as it does now.
I do not fully understand what is happening. I understand only that much has changed over the course of the past few weeks, and that my enemy is now attacking with a renewed force that I have not seen or felt in years. It hit Saturday morning like a freight train finally emerging from a tunnel after weeks of docile hiding. The familiar depression, the weight. Surprised as I was, I was ready. Resolute. Determination swelled.
This time will be different.
You won't have me this time. Not this time. Never, ever again. This is done.
Not because of my strength. I was foolish enough to pit myself against you toe-to-toe far too many times. No, it is not because of my strength that you have lost - it is because of my weakness. In my weakness, my king's strength is perfect. Perfect.
You are not my king.
And I am not who I once was.
I belong to Him.
You have beaten me down - He will restore me. You have lied to me about who I am - He will confirm me. You have assaulted me - He will strengthen me. You have debased and humiliated me - He will establish me.
I am His.
With a single word He spoke me into existence. As my still-forming heart poisoned itself and beat for the first time, He knit me together. And when I was born my broken and depraved spirit still bore the very image of the One who had crushed your head.
You paid a visit unexpectedly at work today. I could barely breathe. Couldn't even look up. It must have made you giddy to watch my spirit writhe in pain.
But then I heard Him. Time slowed as His whisper broke through the smoke and fire. His Word was there.
And I faced you, trembling, and echoed His words. I could feel you hesitate. I said His name.
Jesus.
I will not be that wounded little boy, that broken man forever. He is restoring me.
I will face you with tears flowing, with my spirit still writhing, soaked in His blood. The blood of Jesus.
Jesus.
Blood flows from His crown of thorns, cleansing my thoughts. Blood from His hands, cleansing that which I have touched. Blood from His feet, cleansing where I have walked. Blood from His back, cleansing the years I turned my back upon Him. Blood from His side, cleansing even that which is inside of me, that which I have wished for years that I could tear out and destroy. Even that which you have made every effort to cultivate.
And I stand facing you and all the horrors of Hell
redeemed
For my Jesus is already victorious.
1 Peter 5:8-11
Never has this passage stood out to me as it does now.
I do not fully understand what is happening. I understand only that much has changed over the course of the past few weeks, and that my enemy is now attacking with a renewed force that I have not seen or felt in years. It hit Saturday morning like a freight train finally emerging from a tunnel after weeks of docile hiding. The familiar depression, the weight. Surprised as I was, I was ready. Resolute. Determination swelled.
This time will be different.
You won't have me this time. Not this time. Never, ever again. This is done.
Not because of my strength. I was foolish enough to pit myself against you toe-to-toe far too many times. No, it is not because of my strength that you have lost - it is because of my weakness. In my weakness, my king's strength is perfect. Perfect.
You are not my king.
And I am not who I once was.
I belong to Him.
You have beaten me down - He will restore me. You have lied to me about who I am - He will confirm me. You have assaulted me - He will strengthen me. You have debased and humiliated me - He will establish me.
I am His.
With a single word He spoke me into existence. As my still-forming heart poisoned itself and beat for the first time, He knit me together. And when I was born my broken and depraved spirit still bore the very image of the One who had crushed your head.
You paid a visit unexpectedly at work today. I could barely breathe. Couldn't even look up. It must have made you giddy to watch my spirit writhe in pain.
But then I heard Him. Time slowed as His whisper broke through the smoke and fire. His Word was there.
And I faced you, trembling, and echoed His words. I could feel you hesitate. I said His name.
Jesus.
I will not be that wounded little boy, that broken man forever. He is restoring me.
I will face you with tears flowing, with my spirit still writhing, soaked in His blood. The blood of Jesus.
Jesus.
Blood flows from His crown of thorns, cleansing my thoughts. Blood from His hands, cleansing that which I have touched. Blood from His feet, cleansing where I have walked. Blood from His back, cleansing the years I turned my back upon Him. Blood from His side, cleansing even that which is inside of me, that which I have wished for years that I could tear out and destroy. Even that which you have made every effort to cultivate.
And I stand facing you and all the horrors of Hell
redeemed
For my Jesus is already victorious.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Exhaustion
O LORD, rebuke me not in your anger,
nor discipline me in your wrath.
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am languishing;
heal me, O LORD, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
But you, O LORD - how long?
Turn, O LORD, deliver my life;
save me for the sake of your steadfast love.
For in death there is no remembrance of you;
in Sheol who will give you praise?
I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief;
it grows weak because of all my foes.
------
O LORD my God, if I have done this,
if there is wrong in my hands,
if I have repaid my friend with evil
or plundered my enemy without cause,
let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it,
and let him trample my life to the ground
and lay my glory in the dust.
Where am I?
nor discipline me in your wrath.
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am languishing;
heal me, O LORD, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
But you, O LORD - how long?
Turn, O LORD, deliver my life;
save me for the sake of your steadfast love.
For in death there is no remembrance of you;
in Sheol who will give you praise?
I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief;
it grows weak because of all my foes.
------
O LORD my God, if I have done this,
if there is wrong in my hands,
if I have repaid my friend with evil
or plundered my enemy without cause,
let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it,
and let him trample my life to the ground
and lay my glory in the dust.
Where am I?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Timeline
If you could see a timeline of your life - a linear representation of your journey: your thoughts, emotions, fears, hopes, spiritual growth - what would you see?
I've been writing in my journal tonight and decided to flip back a few months and read some old entries, wondering what, if anything, I had written earlier on the subject I am thinking, praying, and writing about tonight. Indeed I had - and I'd forgotten. And what I read literally made my jaw drop. I am not kidding.
Just a few months back I had written heartfelt and desperate pleas about the very subject I was considering tonight - except I was asking for things that I'm asking for again in a new way tonight. My journal entries over the past few months, when read in chronological succession and all at once to form a mosaic, are eerily self-fulfilling. That is to say - I can literally see and READ God preparing my heart over the past few months, causing me to ask the right questions of myself and of Him. I can see Him pushing the mental and spiritual jigsaw puzzle into place. I can see Him pushing people into and out of my life that were necessary to get to this point, here, tonight. I suddenly see the hand of God in my life in an unbelievable way over the past few months, and in one area in particular. The linearity is incredible and the signs difficult to ignore. He's been working overtime on this, and I think I may know why.
And all this time I couldn't see it. All this time I was going about my walk with Him and totally blind to what He was really working on - I thought I was in one place and headed for a particular destination, yet all the while He was tearing up the pavement from under me and re-laying the road to His own destination in His good pleasure. His sovereignty is humbling and His grace and patience are dumbfounding.
If His road is going where I think He may be paving it, everything is about to change.
"The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps."
-Proverbs 16:9
I've been writing in my journal tonight and decided to flip back a few months and read some old entries, wondering what, if anything, I had written earlier on the subject I am thinking, praying, and writing about tonight. Indeed I had - and I'd forgotten. And what I read literally made my jaw drop. I am not kidding.
Just a few months back I had written heartfelt and desperate pleas about the very subject I was considering tonight - except I was asking for things that I'm asking for again in a new way tonight. My journal entries over the past few months, when read in chronological succession and all at once to form a mosaic, are eerily self-fulfilling. That is to say - I can literally see and READ God preparing my heart over the past few months, causing me to ask the right questions of myself and of Him. I can see Him pushing the mental and spiritual jigsaw puzzle into place. I can see Him pushing people into and out of my life that were necessary to get to this point, here, tonight. I suddenly see the hand of God in my life in an unbelievable way over the past few months, and in one area in particular. The linearity is incredible and the signs difficult to ignore. He's been working overtime on this, and I think I may know why.
And all this time I couldn't see it. All this time I was going about my walk with Him and totally blind to what He was really working on - I thought I was in one place and headed for a particular destination, yet all the while He was tearing up the pavement from under me and re-laying the road to His own destination in His good pleasure. His sovereignty is humbling and His grace and patience are dumbfounding.
If His road is going where I think He may be paving it, everything is about to change.
"The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps."
-Proverbs 16:9
Berlin
Sometimes, when I'm tired and there doesn't seem to be much rest to be had; when work gets stressful (ha); when I wonder about the future - I think of Berlin. Someday I'd like to go back for a little while.
On that subject, here's a cool song from 1981 about Berlin.
On that subject, here's a cool song from 1981 about Berlin.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Jesus Really IS Just that Good.
Just when I think He can't possibly take it any higher, He one-ups it and shows me a whole new side of Himself. I am bowled over with thankfulness and amazement at you tonight, Lord. Jesus, thank you for your providence, your mercy, and your hand in all things. You truly are the Prince of Peace and the Author and Perfector.
Your transformative grace goes beyond my understanding - but I am loving the ride.
Your transformative grace goes beyond my understanding - but I am loving the ride.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Proverbs 31 Woman
I am waiting for the Proverbs 31 woman.
She is an "excellent wife." She is "far more precious than jewels." She "plants a vineyard with the fruit of her hands." She is clothed with strength and dignity. She laughs. She opens her mouth with wisdom. She fears God.
I am waiting for the woman whose heart I can trust in.
I have been waiting for what feels like forever. And I'm convinced that it won't be much longer.
Lately I have been praying specifically for this, which is something that I have never done. I've always prayed for the development of the heart that will necessary to be her husband. I've prayed for the ability to recognize her. I've prayed for strength and perseverance and wisdom and will and purity and courage and redemption and steadfastness.
Now, I eagerly and confidently pray for her coming - and for my swift and decisive pursuit of her when she is revealed.
She is an "excellent wife." She is "far more precious than jewels." She "plants a vineyard with the fruit of her hands." She is clothed with strength and dignity. She laughs. She opens her mouth with wisdom. She fears God.
I am waiting for the woman whose heart I can trust in.
I have been waiting for what feels like forever. And I'm convinced that it won't be much longer.
Lately I have been praying specifically for this, which is something that I have never done. I've always prayed for the development of the heart that will necessary to be her husband. I've prayed for the ability to recognize her. I've prayed for strength and perseverance and wisdom and will and purity and courage and redemption and steadfastness.
Now, I eagerly and confidently pray for her coming - and for my swift and decisive pursuit of her when she is revealed.
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