I've been thinking lately about if my approach to...everything is too strong. With the 2012 presidential election rapidly approaching, the need for jobs becoming ever-so eminent, the never-ending list of questions about what I'm going to do after I graduate, & so on...I wonder if I'm taking life too seriously...am I too passionate about small issues? Obviously this question stems from comparison of myself to those around me. What about all those sayings like: "Do whatever you want, just be happy", "celebrate we will, for life is short but sweet for certain" or that new pop/rap/hip-hop/whatever song "so what we get drunk, so what we smoke weed..." I don't think I need to finish. Are these artists on to something?
Heeeeck no. It's not even close.
That thought lived in my mind for approximately six seconds before I came to a more realistic conclusion.
Excuse my honesty (actually, just don't), but what is the point of living at all if I don't live with purpose? The title of my blog "I'm off and running & I'm not turning back" is taken from Philippians 3:14. Paul is a textbook example of a man living with a purpose. Writing & preaching from within a prison cell, completely determined to spread the Truth.
Let's be realistic, Molly. What if you're wrong? What if this whole Christianity thing is a hoax? What then?
I know a lot of people blow those questions off, but I'm not going to.
So let's say it's all fake. I've invested my entire life in a fairytale. Okay, let's play this out.
Dust to dust. From dust I came & to dust I shall return. If I'm 90, on my death bed, & I have some phenomenal epiphany that everything I've invested my life in is not real, will I regret? Will the first thing that comes to mind be the fact that I only had sex with my husband? That I spent possibly years of my life listening to & singing songs of praise to a God that doesn't exist? That I didn't have an ounce of alcohol until I was 21? That I could count the college parties I went to on one hand? That the people I spent the majority of my time with were people who shared the same values & encouraged such "goody-goody" behaviors? That in high school I was cyber-bullied for taking a stand? That my whole life was sprinkled with random bouts of persecution?
I can honestly say no, I would not regret.
I'll think of the hope I had. I'll think of those I loved deeply & how blessed I was to be so deeply loved in return. I'll think of the beautiful places I got to see & the sometimes incomprehensible blessings I inherited on a daily basis. If my life was 100% within my control, I will consider myself to be the luckiest person to have ever lived because every positive & negative experience I had shaped my character & development. I will recollect the countless ways that the innumerable amount of people I met touched & changed my life. I'll remember learning that giving is the ultimate joy & hard work produces the most supreme satisfaction. I'll remember the times I spent in my husband's arms, feeling & experiencing, giving & receiving a love so intense that I thought for certain my heart would leap out of my chest. I'll see all the mind-images of my gorgeous children entering & exiting each stage of their lives. I'll inhale deeply & exhale slowly as I consider the nearly unbearable pain that the scattered battles in my life brought me & faintly smile because by some great mystery, I made it through. I will do my best to remember the now-faded images of my childhood & the faces of my parents who have long since passed, & hope, as I lay still on that bed in my final moments, that the values they did their best to instill within me were not pearls to swine. I'll hope that the light that they carried so surely & brightly was even just half as illuminated within me. But more importantly than all of my precious memories, I will be ready to die because my life had a purpose that gave me a drive & fulfillment that I could never conjure up on my own.
So, with a frail & decrepit body that gave its very best to me, combined with a heart full of peace, gratefulness, & joy; I will return to the dust from which I came, confident that if I had the opportunity to go back & try again, there is not one thing I would change.
I am by no stretch of the imagination a scholar or an expert in any field whatsoever; but if I know anything, I know that the genesis of regret most often can be traced back to a lack of a virtue or the absence of an action. There is no virtue that justifies a self-gratifying life. The search for carnal happiness & satisfaction is a bottomless pit of greed, disappointment, insecurity, uncertainty, &, of course, emptiness.
Thankfully, I know what I believe & what I have dedicated my life to is true. Don't ask me how, & don't ask me to prove it, because all I have is personal experiences & the Book of Truth. I will never cease to live my life passionately & boldly. That's the gift that my Father has so graciously given me: zest.
Albert Einstein & I share one fundamental similarity:
"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious."
I digress to the title of my blog:
Friends, don't get me wrong: by no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward -- to Jesus. I'm off and running, & I'm not turning back.
{ Philippians 3:13-14 }
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
When Jesus saw him...He said, "Do you want to be healed?" John 5:6
I recently heard a pastor say that the first book of the Bible that anyone should read is John. Well, it's a little late for that for me personally, but I recently started reading a chapter a day and I can see why spiritual leaders would suggest young Christians begin their studies there. John gives a wonderful account of Jesus' life that is very easy to understand. I've only been doing this for a week (so I'm only on chapter seven), but so far what I've noticed is that I recognize all of the stories of the miracles, but there are only a few that I have really taken the time to go through and dissect myself. Which is totally awesome, because I have so much untouched material to go through!
One of the many things that amazes me about both the Bible and Jesus Christ Himself is that they are both basic enough for a child to understand, yet complex enough for Theologians to spend years and years analyzing with a fine-tooth comb. Everything is multi-faceted. And it really only makes sense for it to be that way because that is how the Holy Spirit can grab different people during all different walks of life. It's amazing. The more I scrutinize, the more I get out of it...and equally, the more I think He has run out of things to show me to rock my world, the more violently He rocks it.
The Pharisees--oh, the Pharisees. I could sit here and whine about how much I detest them and how much I hate their pride and petty perfectionism, but truth be told, they served an enormous purpose...they wouldn't be talked about in the Scriptures so much if they didn't. Their blind ignorance is one of the biggest ways that Jesus' glory was revealed. They didn't know it, but they were working right alongside the disciples painting that huge, neon, flashy billboard with arrows and fireworks directing attention upward to His heavenly majesty. Every time they tried to call Jesus out for healing on the Sabbath or spending His time with "the least of these", I imagine the King, omnipresent and powerful as He is, laughing to Himself a little bit. Their attempts were so feeble and self-righteous, I can't imagine that He would respond in any other way. Man does He love them, but boy were they off. The reason I bring up the Pharisees is because without their obnoxious tattle-taling and nitpicking, they would not have drawn more attention to the miracle that Jesus executes.
Which brings me, I suppose, to John 5. Jesus is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate at a place called the pool of Bethesda. In Hebrew, Bethesda means "house of grace" or "house of mercy". The pool of Bethesda is where the sick, crippled, and paralyzed would go because of its rumored healing powers when the water stirred. They would lay there, some, for copious amounts of time, outcasted by society, simply waiting. Jesus' miracle in John 5 is about a man who had been lying at the pool for thirty-eight years. Thirty-eight years. Can we just pause for a moment and try to comprehend that amount of time? I know I at almost nineteen years old can't even come close. My parents were in elementary school! I do not know how old this man was, but to have been laying in this one place for almost forty years, what could he possibly have to go back to? His home was the pool of Bethesda. Whether he liked it or not, that pool inhabited by the rejects and the sickest was essentially his. Thirty-eight years is more than enough time to make this man, or anyone for that matter, sick in the head as well. He was accustomed to the life he was forced to live. He was rendered useless in contributing to a society so what does he do? What would you do? We cannot fully comprehend because that isn't necessarily how America is, and obviously we have the gift of medicine and therapy to help heal some of the consequences of our human condition. But for this man, perhaps he went to the pool of Bethesda as a child, believing with all of his heart that this pool contained the rumored healing water to rid him of his repulsive state--to make him clean. How long does one hold on to that hope? What about his family or friends? They could be the most supportive of any group of people that has ever lived, but they couldn't stay there with him. He was alone. Dehumanized, ostracized, and left for dead. Can hope hold on for nearly a lifetime?
Jesus walks up to this man, stretched out by the pool, and asks him a question that is far too often overlooked:
"Do you want to be healed?" (v. 6)
Do I want to be healed? Are you joking? Do you have any idea the misery I live in, day in and day out? I have been a slave to as close to unbearable pain as you can get for thirty eight years. I am incapable of getting into the pool of Bethesda when the water stirs because I have no one to help me in. Every day of my life I wonder if it will be my last and on most days, I really hope it will be my last, because me merely existing is a nuisance at best to everyone. Do you, sir, know what it is like to be a man and not have the ability to even get in a pool of water? I can't do anything on my own and even if there were someone here to help me it wouldn't matter because I would just create a bigger burden in his life. But you know what? After nearly forty years of the same exact mundane, painful, and utterly useless things every day, I almost believe that even if I were healed, for me to start over would be almost, if not already, impossible. I've completely lost touch with anything that happens outside of this place and I would be dreadfully lost were I to see it again. On the other side of healing there is self-restoration and that restoration doesn't come easily.
Jesus' miracles always mean something and they are always symbolic. The beauty of the multi-faceted nature of Jesus and His work is that the symbols can change even when Jesus never does. We are the scattered around the healing pool of Bethesda. The sickest of the sick, the empty, the worthless, the broken, the useless, the most repulsive, and the hurting. Some of us have been sick for what feels like thirty eight years...some of us have been sick for maybe a week, some our entire lives, but it doesn't matter.
Do you want to be healed?
Be honest with yourself as I am honest with myself: do you sit in your misery and complain about the dreadful pain you're in or the seemingly worthless nature of your life? Stuck in a sinful cycle that never seems to end? Does it seem to just be one negative thing after the other? Can't catch a break? What about when the opportunity arises to be made well, whole, clean, pure? It seems obvious in this man's case that he would immediately say yes, right? It also seems obvious that in your hurting state and in my hurting state that we would jump on any opportunity to have the brokenness put back together. Jesus is Healer. He is the Healer. But He doesn't do your life for you. Do you want to be healed? You have the choice.
Jesus tells the man in verse seven, "Get up, take your bedroll, and start walking." After thirty-eight years of painful paralysis, YOU figure out how to get back on your feet. It's painful, son, and yes, you are quite a bit rusty. But I promise you that there is life and life abundant beyond the perimeter of this miserable place, and I promise you even more that yes, it's going to hurt and yes, it's going to be hard, but if you put your faith in Me, your life will flourish more than you can even begin to imagine. So get up, man; I am right here to catch you when you fall.
One of the many things that amazes me about both the Bible and Jesus Christ Himself is that they are both basic enough for a child to understand, yet complex enough for Theologians to spend years and years analyzing with a fine-tooth comb. Everything is multi-faceted. And it really only makes sense for it to be that way because that is how the Holy Spirit can grab different people during all different walks of life. It's amazing. The more I scrutinize, the more I get out of it...and equally, the more I think He has run out of things to show me to rock my world, the more violently He rocks it.
The Pharisees--oh, the Pharisees. I could sit here and whine about how much I detest them and how much I hate their pride and petty perfectionism, but truth be told, they served an enormous purpose...they wouldn't be talked about in the Scriptures so much if they didn't. Their blind ignorance is one of the biggest ways that Jesus' glory was revealed. They didn't know it, but they were working right alongside the disciples painting that huge, neon, flashy billboard with arrows and fireworks directing attention upward to His heavenly majesty. Every time they tried to call Jesus out for healing on the Sabbath or spending His time with "the least of these", I imagine the King, omnipresent and powerful as He is, laughing to Himself a little bit. Their attempts were so feeble and self-righteous, I can't imagine that He would respond in any other way. Man does He love them, but boy were they off. The reason I bring up the Pharisees is because without their obnoxious tattle-taling and nitpicking, they would not have drawn more attention to the miracle that Jesus executes.
Which brings me, I suppose, to John 5. Jesus is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate at a place called the pool of Bethesda. In Hebrew, Bethesda means "house of grace" or "house of mercy". The pool of Bethesda is where the sick, crippled, and paralyzed would go because of its rumored healing powers when the water stirred. They would lay there, some, for copious amounts of time, outcasted by society, simply waiting. Jesus' miracle in John 5 is about a man who had been lying at the pool for thirty-eight years. Thirty-eight years. Can we just pause for a moment and try to comprehend that amount of time? I know I at almost nineteen years old can't even come close. My parents were in elementary school! I do not know how old this man was, but to have been laying in this one place for almost forty years, what could he possibly have to go back to? His home was the pool of Bethesda. Whether he liked it or not, that pool inhabited by the rejects and the sickest was essentially his. Thirty-eight years is more than enough time to make this man, or anyone for that matter, sick in the head as well. He was accustomed to the life he was forced to live. He was rendered useless in contributing to a society so what does he do? What would you do? We cannot fully comprehend because that isn't necessarily how America is, and obviously we have the gift of medicine and therapy to help heal some of the consequences of our human condition. But for this man, perhaps he went to the pool of Bethesda as a child, believing with all of his heart that this pool contained the rumored healing water to rid him of his repulsive state--to make him clean. How long does one hold on to that hope? What about his family or friends? They could be the most supportive of any group of people that has ever lived, but they couldn't stay there with him. He was alone. Dehumanized, ostracized, and left for dead. Can hope hold on for nearly a lifetime?
Jesus walks up to this man, stretched out by the pool, and asks him a question that is far too often overlooked:
"Do you want to be healed?" (v. 6)
Do I want to be healed? Are you joking? Do you have any idea the misery I live in, day in and day out? I have been a slave to as close to unbearable pain as you can get for thirty eight years. I am incapable of getting into the pool of Bethesda when the water stirs because I have no one to help me in. Every day of my life I wonder if it will be my last and on most days, I really hope it will be my last, because me merely existing is a nuisance at best to everyone. Do you, sir, know what it is like to be a man and not have the ability to even get in a pool of water? I can't do anything on my own and even if there were someone here to help me it wouldn't matter because I would just create a bigger burden in his life. But you know what? After nearly forty years of the same exact mundane, painful, and utterly useless things every day, I almost believe that even if I were healed, for me to start over would be almost, if not already, impossible. I've completely lost touch with anything that happens outside of this place and I would be dreadfully lost were I to see it again. On the other side of healing there is self-restoration and that restoration doesn't come easily.
Jesus' miracles always mean something and they are always symbolic. The beauty of the multi-faceted nature of Jesus and His work is that the symbols can change even when Jesus never does. We are the scattered around the healing pool of Bethesda. The sickest of the sick, the empty, the worthless, the broken, the useless, the most repulsive, and the hurting. Some of us have been sick for what feels like thirty eight years...some of us have been sick for maybe a week, some our entire lives, but it doesn't matter.
Do you want to be healed?
Be honest with yourself as I am honest with myself: do you sit in your misery and complain about the dreadful pain you're in or the seemingly worthless nature of your life? Stuck in a sinful cycle that never seems to end? Does it seem to just be one negative thing after the other? Can't catch a break? What about when the opportunity arises to be made well, whole, clean, pure? It seems obvious in this man's case that he would immediately say yes, right? It also seems obvious that in your hurting state and in my hurting state that we would jump on any opportunity to have the brokenness put back together. Jesus is Healer. He is the Healer. But He doesn't do your life for you. Do you want to be healed? You have the choice.
Jesus tells the man in verse seven, "Get up, take your bedroll, and start walking." After thirty-eight years of painful paralysis, YOU figure out how to get back on your feet. It's painful, son, and yes, you are quite a bit rusty. But I promise you that there is life and life abundant beyond the perimeter of this miserable place, and I promise you even more that yes, it's going to hurt and yes, it's going to be hard, but if you put your faith in Me, your life will flourish more than you can even begin to imagine. So get up, man; I am right here to catch you when you fall.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
"Give all your attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow."
Long time no post! College has been extremely busy and makes my already seldom blogging a little bit more difficult, but a new case of insomnia has led me here!
I've been dealing with some mad anxiety since I got to college. I mean, stuff I haven't dealt with in years has been cropping up out of nowhere. I believe the worst of it is over and God has been faithful in His sovereignty and intimacy with me in my walk since I got here.
Cool story: I have never been able to take naps. I know most teenagers and college kids do, but the second I lay down to take a midday snooze, my mind immediately starts racing through all of the things I need to accomplish and I simply cannot sleep. Well, apparently this nasty, compulsive habit has expanded to my nighttime sleeping adventures as well, hence the 5AM blog post.
Church in Wilmington thus far has been amazing to say the absolute least. Port City is where I belong and it feels so good. On Sunday they sang the song "Manifesto" by City Harmonic (if you haven't heard it before, look it up right now.) and I was just so taken aback by its power. There is nothing super powerful about the lyrics, up until the bridge when the lead singer recites a goose bump-inducing rendition of the Lord's Prayer.
Being raised in a Christian home, church, and school, I am aware that the Lord's Prayer was never intended to be recited. Jesus simply uses it as a model to show us the proper way to come before the Lord in prayer. I know how strongly it has been emphasized that this prayer is not THE prayer and it has no "magic powers" over any of our prayers...but sometimes (I've found), there is just really no better way to say it than the way Jesus says it. And for me, when I am at a loss for words in prayer, I like to quote the Big Man Himself because He always has a way of saying it way better than I could ever articulate on my own.
So I decided to reread the Lord's Prayer which is found in Matthew 6. And HOW FORTUITOUS that a few verses down Jesus would tell me:
"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think He'll attend to you, take pride in you, do His best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way He works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how He works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matthew 6:30-34
So, here I am, in the wee hours of the morning, stressing about everything that needs to be done, when I stumble across this beaut. Matthew 6 is not the only place in the Bible where He tells me to relax, either. He makes that so clear. What I fail to understand most of the time is that when I am WORRYING there is zero room for FAITH. It's straight up sinful and it creates this playground for Satan's nasty mind games.
God, please still my anxious heart. You have never failed to provide for me as I have never failed to fall flat on my face when I decide to take matters into my own hands. Hold me closely in Your perfect and loving embrace and never let me go, though I may squirm. I love you Father.
I've been dealing with some mad anxiety since I got to college. I mean, stuff I haven't dealt with in years has been cropping up out of nowhere. I believe the worst of it is over and God has been faithful in His sovereignty and intimacy with me in my walk since I got here.
Cool story: I have never been able to take naps. I know most teenagers and college kids do, but the second I lay down to take a midday snooze, my mind immediately starts racing through all of the things I need to accomplish and I simply cannot sleep. Well, apparently this nasty, compulsive habit has expanded to my nighttime sleeping adventures as well, hence the 5AM blog post.
Church in Wilmington thus far has been amazing to say the absolute least. Port City is where I belong and it feels so good. On Sunday they sang the song "Manifesto" by City Harmonic (if you haven't heard it before, look it up right now.) and I was just so taken aback by its power. There is nothing super powerful about the lyrics, up until the bridge when the lead singer recites a goose bump-inducing rendition of the Lord's Prayer.
Being raised in a Christian home, church, and school, I am aware that the Lord's Prayer was never intended to be recited. Jesus simply uses it as a model to show us the proper way to come before the Lord in prayer. I know how strongly it has been emphasized that this prayer is not THE prayer and it has no "magic powers" over any of our prayers...but sometimes (I've found), there is just really no better way to say it than the way Jesus says it. And for me, when I am at a loss for words in prayer, I like to quote the Big Man Himself because He always has a way of saying it way better than I could ever articulate on my own.
So I decided to reread the Lord's Prayer which is found in Matthew 6. And HOW FORTUITOUS that a few verses down Jesus would tell me:
"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think He'll attend to you, take pride in you, do His best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way He works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how He works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matthew 6:30-34
So, here I am, in the wee hours of the morning, stressing about everything that needs to be done, when I stumble across this beaut. Matthew 6 is not the only place in the Bible where He tells me to relax, either. He makes that so clear. What I fail to understand most of the time is that when I am WORRYING there is zero room for FAITH. It's straight up sinful and it creates this playground for Satan's nasty mind games.
God, please still my anxious heart. You have never failed to provide for me as I have never failed to fall flat on my face when I decide to take matters into my own hands. Hold me closely in Your perfect and loving embrace and never let me go, though I may squirm. I love you Father.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The University of North Carolina Wilmington
Finding the time to blog this summer has proven to be much more difficult than I anticipated. With that being said, this will most likely be my last post of the summer and I'm going to keep it pretty brief.
I leave for the beautiful UNCW in t-minus 11 days. It's a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, I am elated and counting down the hours until I can walk out that door and begin the quasi-painful yet liberating process of ridding of my childhood. On the other hand, obviously, I am terrified. I'm terrified that I won't make friends, I'm terrified of what is going to happen to my boyfriend and me, I'm terrified of the schoolwork, and I'm terrified of growing up. On this hand I'm miles away from ready and on the afore mentioned hand, I've been ready for years.
"Do your best, prepare for the worst--
Then trust God to bring victory."
Proverbs 21:31
13 words that beautifully marry realism and optimism. I go from extreme to extreme as the days rapidly slip through my fingers, but in my heart I am in perfect peace.
I leave for the beautiful UNCW in t-minus 11 days. It's a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, I am elated and counting down the hours until I can walk out that door and begin the quasi-painful yet liberating process of ridding of my childhood. On the other hand, obviously, I am terrified. I'm terrified that I won't make friends, I'm terrified of what is going to happen to my boyfriend and me, I'm terrified of the schoolwork, and I'm terrified of growing up. On this hand I'm miles away from ready and on the afore mentioned hand, I've been ready for years.
"Do your best, prepare for the worst--
Then trust God to bring victory."
Proverbs 21:31
13 words that beautifully marry realism and optimism. I go from extreme to extreme as the days rapidly slip through my fingers, but in my heart I am in perfect peace.
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Sermon on the Mount
"When Jesus concluded his address, the crowd burst into applause. They had never heard teaching like this. It was apparent that he was living everything he was saying—quite a contrast to their religion teachers! This was the best teaching they had ever heard." Matthew 7:28-29
I really enjoy reading "The Message" version of the Bible because I feel that that is how God would communicate with me if we were to sit down and have a conversation. I had a very simple yet profound epiphany a couple months ago about how amazing it is that God speaks to each of us in our own language. Just a little sidebar.
I read Matthew 5 yesterday and this morning I finished the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). I've heard most of the verses many times before and I'm sure you have as well. I am by no stretch of the imagination a scholar or expert in the Biblical field. I do not read my Bible as I should and I believe that the things to be learned in the Word are infinite and no one can ever master such an intellectually stirring piece. And for me to dedicate just one blog post to the entire Sermon on the Mount would be absolutely insane and completely unfair. So I'm not going to. I'm just going to hone in on Jesus' communication skills.
For those of you who have also been raised in a Christian home, you are very familiar with Scripture memorization from the NIV, King James, New King James, etc. at your church, Christian camp, Christian home, or wherever. Now that I am 18 years old and I have realized that my faith is 100% mine and personal, I've realized that from the time I was a young child memorizing Bible verses, I compartmentalized them into a separate section of my memory. The "Bible section". This section was not relevant or applicable to my life at all. It was just "the Bible" which in my mind was often combined with screen shots from "The Prince of Egypt" or "Adventures in Odyssey". It wasn't that I was bitter or that I did it intentionally, it just wasn't real to me. Everything was animated or a cut out picture of a man with a beard in robes on a felt board. In seventh grade I heard God speak for the first time and this "Bible" section of my memory began to corrode. In tenth grade God totally turned my world upside down and completely obliterated that section of my mind. I was on an entirely new level with God. He was speaking to me, and it was more real than anything I've ever experienced on earth.
As I'm reading the Sermon on the Mount (in 'The Message'), I'm putting myself in the scenario. Thousands of commoners gathered around to hear what the Master has to say. Pharisees on their toes with front row seats skeptically watching and listening, waiting for him to "sinfully" fumble over a word or forget what He was going to say. The sick have gathered round to see this great Healer that they've heard of, and for just this one time in history, His miracles are so majestic and beyond human comprehension that they couldn't be exaggerated even if someone tried. I see antsy children and aged determined scholars alike hanging on every word He says as they sit in perfect silence and concentration. The same God of whom John speaks in Revelation whose voice alone made him fall to his face as if dead is manifest in this human body, speaking to the masses with a tranquility and power that politicians and public speakers have tried to master for years, but will never be able to acheive. At just the sound of Jesus' voice the entire crowd is transfixed on what He has to say. This Man, the carpenter from a humble beginning, the fisherman, the average Guy walking through the marketplace...no one can quite explain why they listen, but they do. I can see myself there. I want to push through the thousands of people so that I can get closer and see Him, but I don't move out of fear that the sound of my footsteps might compete with the most beautiful and compassionate voice I have ever heard.
But not only did His voice capture the masses, His words rang truer than anything anyone had ever heard. God is so good that He can use something as weak and insufficient as language to get a point across. If God wanted us to have the ability to fully fathom His greatness without the barrier of words, then He would give it to us. But you know what I think? If that were so, what would we do? We would perpetually be on our faces, weeping, at His greatness. We would be so paralyzed with fear and adoration, every second of the day. We catch glimpses of this when God sees it fit to reveal Himself to us. But even then we aren't remotely close to the utterly terrifying and amazing nature of God. I believe Jesus spoke in the second person (my knowledge of the Greek language is feeble). And I believe that every one of those thousands of individuals felt a deep and personal connection with Him as if they were the only two there. His wisdom is so profound and so relevant. It's broad enough to cover everyone but specific enough to touch each of us differently. Just imagine the crowd--no--imagine yourself, as He looks you dead in the eye and tells you with that Godly presence that could never be reduplicated:
"You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.
You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being 'care-full,' you find yourselves cared for.
You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.
You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom.
Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble." (Matthew 5:4-12)
I can see Him smiling with pride in His eyes when He tells me that I'm blessed when I'm content with who I am, because He knows my pain and struggles it took for me to get to that point. I can feel Him putting His hand on mine when He tells me that I'm blessed when my commitment to Him provokes persecution, because He's seen the tears I've cried, the friends I've lost, and the enemies I've made-and He's felt that pain and understands that I can't understand why it has to be that way, but I trust Him anyway. I can see Him jokingly shaking His holy, perfect finger at me when He tells me that I am blessed when I work up a good appetite for Him because He knows that I lose my focus. And then I nervously laugh because I'm so embarrassed that I could ever doubt or lose my focus from this perfect Man who's standing here holding my hand, more real and visceral than anything I've ever experienced. I feel myself shaking, unable to make eye contact, because now more than ever I am aware that this is the Entity who knew me before I was conceived, who placed the stars in the sky, who parted the Red Sea for Moses, who miraculously saved Joseph countless times, who made Soloman the wisest man to ever live, who was born of a virgin, and who was soon to be brutally killed for living a sinless life so that I too could live a sinless life with Him in eternity. I feel unworthy to be in His presence but as I'm looking down He tilts my head so that I'm looking directly into His flawless face and every stupid, dirty, and sinful thing I have ever done is simply but completely gone. He looks at me, not with judgment, but with a compassion that I have never known. How I can even call it compassion is beyond me because human compassion can never compare. I go totally weak and fall to His feet. It is all I can do but to barely whisper feeble words of praise and adoration in between almost painful heaves from weeping. Knowing me better than I could ever know myself, He lifts me from the ground, wipes the tears from my face, and gently reminds me of what He told the prophet Isaiah:
"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
I've called your name. You're mine.
When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.
When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you're between a rock and a hard place,
it won't be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
The Holy of Israel, your Savior.
I paid a huge price for you:
That's how much you mean to me!
That's how much I love you!
I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you"(43:2-4)
I fall into His arms, filled with His spirit, completely worthless but absolutely priceless with my identity in Him. I could stay in His arms for eternity. And so, I do.
--------------------
These blog posts never go the way I plan them. Which is probably analogous to my life. It's like while I'm writing, He just captures me over and over and over again. Then, I think about what I was going to write and laugh a little to myself because even in the small things like a blog post, He just takes over. He's constantly showing me how weak I am, constantly knocking me off my feet so that I'm on the ground looking up in desperation and admiration at the One who gives me the ability to stand. All I can see is Him from that position. He is everything when I'm there. I wish I could stay there forever. It's a holy place, you know, when you're totally dependent on Him. He could put me there in a hot second when I get prideful, but He doesn't. He lets me try things on my own. Do they ever work out? Neeeope. Do I continue to try? Yes. Man I'm stupid. But Jesus, let me be stupid because it is such a beautiful contrast to how perfect You are. I am dirt. I really am. But You sure do know how to use something that every single every person would count as trash for something amazing.
In the truest sense of the phrase-love always, from your faithful servant.
I really enjoy reading "The Message" version of the Bible because I feel that that is how God would communicate with me if we were to sit down and have a conversation. I had a very simple yet profound epiphany a couple months ago about how amazing it is that God speaks to each of us in our own language. Just a little sidebar.
I read Matthew 5 yesterday and this morning I finished the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). I've heard most of the verses many times before and I'm sure you have as well. I am by no stretch of the imagination a scholar or expert in the Biblical field. I do not read my Bible as I should and I believe that the things to be learned in the Word are infinite and no one can ever master such an intellectually stirring piece. And for me to dedicate just one blog post to the entire Sermon on the Mount would be absolutely insane and completely unfair. So I'm not going to. I'm just going to hone in on Jesus' communication skills.
For those of you who have also been raised in a Christian home, you are very familiar with Scripture memorization from the NIV, King James, New King James, etc. at your church, Christian camp, Christian home, or wherever. Now that I am 18 years old and I have realized that my faith is 100% mine and personal, I've realized that from the time I was a young child memorizing Bible verses, I compartmentalized them into a separate section of my memory. The "Bible section". This section was not relevant or applicable to my life at all. It was just "the Bible" which in my mind was often combined with screen shots from "The Prince of Egypt" or "Adventures in Odyssey". It wasn't that I was bitter or that I did it intentionally, it just wasn't real to me. Everything was animated or a cut out picture of a man with a beard in robes on a felt board. In seventh grade I heard God speak for the first time and this "Bible" section of my memory began to corrode. In tenth grade God totally turned my world upside down and completely obliterated that section of my mind. I was on an entirely new level with God. He was speaking to me, and it was more real than anything I've ever experienced on earth.
As I'm reading the Sermon on the Mount (in 'The Message'), I'm putting myself in the scenario. Thousands of commoners gathered around to hear what the Master has to say. Pharisees on their toes with front row seats skeptically watching and listening, waiting for him to "sinfully" fumble over a word or forget what He was going to say. The sick have gathered round to see this great Healer that they've heard of, and for just this one time in history, His miracles are so majestic and beyond human comprehension that they couldn't be exaggerated even if someone tried. I see antsy children and aged determined scholars alike hanging on every word He says as they sit in perfect silence and concentration. The same God of whom John speaks in Revelation whose voice alone made him fall to his face as if dead is manifest in this human body, speaking to the masses with a tranquility and power that politicians and public speakers have tried to master for years, but will never be able to acheive. At just the sound of Jesus' voice the entire crowd is transfixed on what He has to say. This Man, the carpenter from a humble beginning, the fisherman, the average Guy walking through the marketplace...no one can quite explain why they listen, but they do. I can see myself there. I want to push through the thousands of people so that I can get closer and see Him, but I don't move out of fear that the sound of my footsteps might compete with the most beautiful and compassionate voice I have ever heard.
But not only did His voice capture the masses, His words rang truer than anything anyone had ever heard. God is so good that He can use something as weak and insufficient as language to get a point across. If God wanted us to have the ability to fully fathom His greatness without the barrier of words, then He would give it to us. But you know what I think? If that were so, what would we do? We would perpetually be on our faces, weeping, at His greatness. We would be so paralyzed with fear and adoration, every second of the day. We catch glimpses of this when God sees it fit to reveal Himself to us. But even then we aren't remotely close to the utterly terrifying and amazing nature of God. I believe Jesus spoke in the second person (my knowledge of the Greek language is feeble). And I believe that every one of those thousands of individuals felt a deep and personal connection with Him as if they were the only two there. His wisdom is so profound and so relevant. It's broad enough to cover everyone but specific enough to touch each of us differently. Just imagine the crowd--no--imagine yourself, as He looks you dead in the eye and tells you with that Godly presence that could never be reduplicated:
"You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.
You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being 'care-full,' you find yourselves cared for.
You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.
You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom.
Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble." (Matthew 5:4-12)
I can see Him smiling with pride in His eyes when He tells me that I'm blessed when I'm content with who I am, because He knows my pain and struggles it took for me to get to that point. I can feel Him putting His hand on mine when He tells me that I'm blessed when my commitment to Him provokes persecution, because He's seen the tears I've cried, the friends I've lost, and the enemies I've made-and He's felt that pain and understands that I can't understand why it has to be that way, but I trust Him anyway. I can see Him jokingly shaking His holy, perfect finger at me when He tells me that I am blessed when I work up a good appetite for Him because He knows that I lose my focus. And then I nervously laugh because I'm so embarrassed that I could ever doubt or lose my focus from this perfect Man who's standing here holding my hand, more real and visceral than anything I've ever experienced. I feel myself shaking, unable to make eye contact, because now more than ever I am aware that this is the Entity who knew me before I was conceived, who placed the stars in the sky, who parted the Red Sea for Moses, who miraculously saved Joseph countless times, who made Soloman the wisest man to ever live, who was born of a virgin, and who was soon to be brutally killed for living a sinless life so that I too could live a sinless life with Him in eternity. I feel unworthy to be in His presence but as I'm looking down He tilts my head so that I'm looking directly into His flawless face and every stupid, dirty, and sinful thing I have ever done is simply but completely gone. He looks at me, not with judgment, but with a compassion that I have never known. How I can even call it compassion is beyond me because human compassion can never compare. I go totally weak and fall to His feet. It is all I can do but to barely whisper feeble words of praise and adoration in between almost painful heaves from weeping. Knowing me better than I could ever know myself, He lifts me from the ground, wipes the tears from my face, and gently reminds me of what He told the prophet Isaiah:
"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
I've called your name. You're mine.
When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.
When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you're between a rock and a hard place,
it won't be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
The Holy of Israel, your Savior.
I paid a huge price for you:
That's how much you mean to me!
That's how much I love you!
I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you"(43:2-4)
I fall into His arms, filled with His spirit, completely worthless but absolutely priceless with my identity in Him. I could stay in His arms for eternity. And so, I do.
--------------------
These blog posts never go the way I plan them. Which is probably analogous to my life. It's like while I'm writing, He just captures me over and over and over again. Then, I think about what I was going to write and laugh a little to myself because even in the small things like a blog post, He just takes over. He's constantly showing me how weak I am, constantly knocking me off my feet so that I'm on the ground looking up in desperation and admiration at the One who gives me the ability to stand. All I can see is Him from that position. He is everything when I'm there. I wish I could stay there forever. It's a holy place, you know, when you're totally dependent on Him. He could put me there in a hot second when I get prideful, but He doesn't. He lets me try things on my own. Do they ever work out? Neeeope. Do I continue to try? Yes. Man I'm stupid. But Jesus, let me be stupid because it is such a beautiful contrast to how perfect You are. I am dirt. I really am. But You sure do know how to use something that every single every person would count as trash for something amazing.
In the truest sense of the phrase-love always, from your faithful servant.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Dirt and spit
"He says, 'But that's not a big enough job for my servant—
just to recover the tribes of Jacob,
merely to round up the strays of Israel.
I'm setting you up as a light for the nations
so that my salvation becomes global!'" (Isaiah 49:6)
I am a very wordsy person. I love words and I love the power that each individual cluster of letters can hold. I love grammar and sentence structure, too. So when I'm reading God's Word, I'll often come across a verse or sentence that I have to read several times because it just resounds so intensely within my word-loving soul.
"I'm setting you up as a light for the nations"
My prayer has always been that I be a lighthouse, not that I be shaped into one. I'd pray every day "God, make me a lighthouse." I wanted to be the way by which those who were "lost at sea", so to speak, found their way back to God's perfect and safe harbor. I never thought about the gradual process behind acquiring such light. And not even acquiring it, but becoming it.
I used to think that being a Christian meant being perfect because Christ was perfect. I used to believe that if people saw me mess up, then as a quasi-punishment, they could never see Christ in me. I relentlessly chased after perfection knowing the whole time that this was an impossible and futile task. But I soon realized that the imperfection that inherently manifests itself within me is what makes God so amazing. I had this epiphany one day when God totally "opened my eyes" while listening to the story that I'd heard countless times of how Jesus healed the blind man in John 9
"He said this and then spit in the dirt, made a clay paste with the saliva, rubbed the paste on the blind man's eyes" (John 9:6)
Jesus healed the blind man, that was all Him. But what was the segway by which He did so? Dirt and spit. Dirt and spit are nasty (some translations use dust, I like 'The Message'). There is nothing holy about either of the substances, and yet, He used them to perform a miracle that no one in that time could reasonably comprehend. And you know what we are as humans?
"God formed Man out of dirt from the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life. The Man came alive—a living soul"(Genesis 2:7)
God, I am dirt and the world is blind.
The complete beauty of our faith is that we can come to the Creator of the universe as we are. We are nothing. He chooses to use us, in our utter worthlessness, to perform His great and merciful actions. He is setting me up to be a light, I am in awe.
Lord I am humbled and renewed in Your spirit.
"Here I am, God, send me" (Isaiah 6:8)
just to recover the tribes of Jacob,
merely to round up the strays of Israel.
I'm setting you up as a light for the nations
so that my salvation becomes global!'" (Isaiah 49:6)
I am a very wordsy person. I love words and I love the power that each individual cluster of letters can hold. I love grammar and sentence structure, too. So when I'm reading God's Word, I'll often come across a verse or sentence that I have to read several times because it just resounds so intensely within my word-loving soul.
"I'm setting you up as a light for the nations"
My prayer has always been that I be a lighthouse, not that I be shaped into one. I'd pray every day "God, make me a lighthouse." I wanted to be the way by which those who were "lost at sea", so to speak, found their way back to God's perfect and safe harbor. I never thought about the gradual process behind acquiring such light. And not even acquiring it, but becoming it.
I used to think that being a Christian meant being perfect because Christ was perfect. I used to believe that if people saw me mess up, then as a quasi-punishment, they could never see Christ in me. I relentlessly chased after perfection knowing the whole time that this was an impossible and futile task. But I soon realized that the imperfection that inherently manifests itself within me is what makes God so amazing. I had this epiphany one day when God totally "opened my eyes" while listening to the story that I'd heard countless times of how Jesus healed the blind man in John 9
"He said this and then spit in the dirt, made a clay paste with the saliva, rubbed the paste on the blind man's eyes" (John 9:6)
Jesus healed the blind man, that was all Him. But what was the segway by which He did so? Dirt and spit. Dirt and spit are nasty (some translations use dust, I like 'The Message'). There is nothing holy about either of the substances, and yet, He used them to perform a miracle that no one in that time could reasonably comprehend. And you know what we are as humans?
"God formed Man out of dirt from the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life. The Man came alive—a living soul"(Genesis 2:7)
God, I am dirt and the world is blind.
The complete beauty of our faith is that we can come to the Creator of the universe as we are. We are nothing. He chooses to use us, in our utter worthlessness, to perform His great and merciful actions. He is setting me up to be a light, I am in awe.
Lord I am humbled and renewed in Your spirit.
"Here I am, God, send me" (Isaiah 6:8)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)