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.

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.

Despair.com

OK, so I promised not to complain, but I don't think this counts - because this website was making me laugh so hard at work people were wondering what was wrong with me.

My absolute favorites are this one
And this one
And of course, this one

I am so buying the desktop calendar. Not even kidding.

Resolved:

Complain less. Starting now.

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.

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.

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.