The Grit of Community Post-30's

So, it's been a while since I've posted and honestly, I have mixed feelings about the whole thing.  I wonder a) is it worth writing my thoughts out in a post-twitter world? and b) is it worth writing my thoughts out in a post-twitter world?  haha. But I have tossed around these ideas for a while, so I might as well jot them down in the hopes that someone else can relate and be encouraged.

What does it look like for young adults to create community after 30?  I live in a metropolitan area.  (Wow, it's very weird for this South-eastern TN girl to say that.)  People are coming and going ALL THE TIME. I cannot tell you how many people have come in and out (mostly out) of our lives over the past 2 years since we've been married.  We started out with a very vibrant community and now we are trying to rebuild and regroup once again.  It has left me with many questions and reflections both on the Chicago Christian community scene as well as our own personal participation in community-building efforts.

On a personal note, this is tough.  I want friendship and fellowship so badly. I have come from seasons of very vibrant community where people were sharing, praying, and living life together. I went from Lee University (both undergrad and grad), where community seemed to happen with very little effort, to Wheaton, where there were several small groups that were ready for young adults to be a part of, to Chicago where I joined a church group that was sure to help me connect to others in similar stages of life.  However, it hasn't been seamless or simple.  I have found myself looking for friends and searching for others I can connect with on a deeper level.  For a long time...

In all of this, I have to ask, what is my motivation? Do I want to serve and love others? Yes, but mostly I want others to serve and love me. This puts me in a place of seeking out those that most fulfill my needs, which in actually do not bring me closer to what I truly desire...real community.

So, in order to find what I am looking for, I have to give up my expectations. Wah wah.  This is not the answer I really wanted to hear.  I have to be willing to be the best friend, the one who shows up early and stays late, the one who goes to the end of the line, the one who bears the hard, difficult stuff with nothing in return, with zero thanks and no recognition. In losing myself is the reward.  Otherwise,  if I'm constantly searching, if I want fulfillment, if I want recognition, I will not find it b/c that is my object, my desire.  It becomes and idol and it becomes what I seek after.

I will not receive community unless I'm willing to BE community first.  It takes us stepping up to say, hey, I have your back.  I will be there, no matter what.  Before we receive, we have to give. I've been blessed to be part of something bigger than ourselves in the past. Now, it's the time to give.  It's a difficult lesson to learn, but I'm trying.  Help me, as my community, to do it well.

Isaiah 6, The Glossed Over Part

This morning I was reading Isaiah 6.  It's the famous chapter of Isaiah's calling where he goes to the temple and experiences God in a very life-altering way.  The Bible tells us that the "train of His robe filled the temple" and there were seraphim (angelic creatures) flying around saying, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty."  At the sight of all this, Isaiah realizes that he is not worthy and a seraphim came and touched a coal to his lips and declares that his sin is atoned for and forgiven.  After this God speaks up and asks, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?"  Well, Isaiah finds himself responding, "Here am I, send me."  Then, it's like there is a curtain call and we all rise to our feet and give God, Isaiah and the heavenly creatures a standing ovation.  Except, that's not where the story ends.

So often, I have read this passage or heard it preached and stopped paying much attention after Isaiah's lofty acceptance.  The thing is, there is so much more.  If you thought the first half of the plot was interesting with all of its smoke, seraphim, and the presence of God, well, the second half won't leave you disappointed.  Isaiah signs up for Lord knows what (literally), and then he finds out real quick that the task at hand is going to be hefty.  See, God follows up Isaiah's acceptance speech with a command to talk to people who inevitably won't actually listen to him. "Go and tell this people, hear and hear continually, but understand not; and see and see continually, but do not apprehend with your mind." (v. 9 AMP)  Sounds very promising...not.  Then, Isaiah has the boldness to ask God how long this "unseeing" thing would last and He responds by declaring judgment on the people of Israel.  "Until cities lie waste without inhabitant and houses without man, and the land is utterly desolate."  (v.11 AMP) Super hopeful and encouraging.

These are Isaiah's people that God is saying all these harsh things about.  Heck, these are God's people that He's saying all these harsh things about.  This is not ideal for either one of them.  God wants His people to serve Him again.  Isaiah wants the same thing.  He loves his people, his culture, and is now burdened with a very strong message to share, one that will lead to captivity and a difficult future.  Yet, his desire to serve God and his desire to see his people follow Him again compel him to share this message, no matter how difficult it may be to bear.  Seeing as there are 66 chapters in Isaiah, this is only just the beginning of his trying journey.

See, we lose such an important part of the story if we stop at the moment Isaiah volunteers.  The "glory" of stepping forward is so easily highlighted, but we quickly forget or gloss over the immense burden that it comes with.  Isaiah had to carry this burden for the rest of his life and it led him to say and do things I'm sure he would've never thought of before.  The same can be said of us today.  Oftentimes, we "sign up" to be a follower of Christ and don't always realize the burden that comes along with it.  We can no longer look at the world the same way.  More specifically, we may feel called to certain type of ministry or work, and then realize the weight we feel for that will never go away.  Instead, many times, the burden tends to only increase and we find ourselves in the shoes of Isaiah, feeling compelled to participate in a difficult work for the sake of God's glory and the benefit of those around us.

As I have been having conversations recently about specific needs in our culture that I feel burdened about, I can't help but be both discouraged and encouraged by Isaiah's story.  It's discouraging that the burden I feel may never go away.  Instead it may increase and I may find myself in some trying situations as I move forward.  But it's beyond encouraging to know that through it all God is with me and this burden is a gift that compels me to share, speak out, to act on behalf of His kingdom and love for others.

one of ten thousand

Lawdy. I don't even know where to start.  Do you ever find yourself in a situation where you are flustered and just don't have the words to say?  Perhaps there's a sudden rush of feelings (sadness, excitement, nervousness, anger) and BOOM! You're dumfounded and struck silent.  Generally, these moments reel me into a surge of internal processing where my brain hits high octane trying to make sense of it all.  I've never been a verbal processor.  Quite the opposite.  It takes TIME and lots of it for me to make sense of all that's bouncing around in there.  I like to keep it inside and try to organize it all into its nice neat compartments before it comes spilling out. Hence why this blog post will seem a little late to the game. Needless to say, I am one of many voices and a bit tardy at that, but I felt like just the act of writing these thoughts down would be helpful to make some sense of it all. 


So, here I go.  Hit the hot topic button and hold on for dear life.


Refugees. 


Just let the word sink in.  It's been so laden lately.  This single word can provoke sympathy, anger, disdain, indifference, action, and the list goes on.  We've all been up in arms in regards to the issue and have found ourselves standing off against one another.  There are political opinions, religious opinions, humanitarian opinions, and the "y'all are all crazy" opinions.  The biggest struggle has been seeing the political and religious opinions begin to clash.  In the name of Christ or in the name of Democracy--it's all gotten a bit muddled.  As a person of faith, I can't help but have thoughts on it all.  Here are just a few:


-We have an individual and communal responsibility to live out our faith and impact society around us...BUT it gets tricky when we think about how the government gets all mixed up in that.  We want things to go a certain way politically, but regardless of the outcome, our obligation stays the same.  We must live out our faith.  We must follow in the example of Christ.  We must serve, we must love, we must obey.  By following the example of Christ, I learn how to fulfill a purpose in the midst of a trying political environment.  During His day, things were corrupt.  There was an outside ruler.  The Jewish people wanted a Rescuer to sweep them into utopia.  Yet, this was not His calling.  He came not to force a governmental rule, but to set people free.  He lived out peace, justice, mercy and love.  He fulfilled God's will despite (and with the help of) the political climate.  So, regardless of what my governor decides, I know what I must do.  I must love. I must serve.  I must trust God.


-Trust.  It's a difficult thing. Times are scary and we are full of fear.  We can't protect ourselves (we never could, in reality).  We fear the what if's and the could be's.  We are so "in touch" with what's going on in the world, we hear of a new horrific thing happening every few seconds it seems.  This has the effect of both numbing us and pushing us to the edge.  The crazy thing is, we fear what we know to be real.  Terrorism is real.  Evil is real.  And it can come knocking any time. 


We also know this first hand.  Not only did we experience 9/11, but we can go even further back to see the history of violence in our nation.  From the beginning, we set the stage to take, pillage, and destroy.  Our forefathers came to this country as refugees themselves, fleeing their homeland in the hopes of receiving religious freedom and new opportunities.  Soon enough, these refugees were taking over the land and oppressing the natives, almost pushing them to the extent of extinction.  We set up our own government and put our stake in the ground and became the United States.  So, unfortunately, the story of refugees taking over the country that harbors them is not that far from home. 


-So, as much as it makes sense to be afraid at times, we can't sit in that feeling.  We'll miss out on all the good stuff!  There is no part of me that tries to put on rose colored glasses, so let me just be up front.   a)  This could be an opportunity to serve.  If your state receives refugees, this is a chance to reflect the light of Christ.  How many of us would have the opportunity to travel to Syria (or any other war-torn country)?  Jesus told us to go to the nations, and now the nations are coming to US.  What a cool chance to serve and learn from one another.   b)  This whole situation has raised awareness about the needs of refugees.  The reality is many states accept refugees from various places all over the world already.  Here's a chance to get involved and learn more.  Check out organizations in your area that work with refugees such as World Relief.  Find ways to get involved.


Ultimately, it's not only refugees who are in need, as many have mentioned this week.  There are people next door, down the street, across the hall that are in need.  What will we do about it? As I close, I can't help but have Matthew 25 ringing in my head.  May I live out my faith by finding those, wherever they may be, or wherever they may come from, to visit, feed, clothe, and look after. 


"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"

flaws and all...

As humans criticism comes naturally.  We consume it, we ruminate over it, we spit it out.  We let it fill our lives, thoughts, and words.   And although we’re really great at criticizing others, we truly EXCEL at criticizing ourselves.  We have a (sometimes constant) tape running through our heads of all of our “shoulds” in our lives—what we should look like, what we should be doing, how we should be as people.  And in an effort to fulfill those, we put only our best face forward for all the world to see.  Only a select few in our lives are allowed to see us at our worst.  We do this because we believe that by putting our best face out there it will bring us affirmation and help relieve some of the “shoulds.”  Yet, the opposite somehow rings true.  We are actually only serving to feed that criticism and as a result the negative tape just keeps on rolling.  See, if everyone only shows their best, then we begin believing that the best is actually the average. And if my best is your average, then my best is no longer good enough.  We begin holding ourselves up against each other, living in a constant state of comparison, criticism, and self-deprecation.     If we only see beautiful and talented and successful and amazing in front of us all the time, we feel unable to compete.  Soon enough, we stop trying. And perhaps we never “should” have tried to begin with. 

 

I was thinking about all this today as I was deleting pictures of myself off of my phone b/c they didn’t meet certain standards.  Lazy eye and dry skin.  Asymmetrical or blemished.  Blah.  And if I allow myself listen to the negative tape, I can go on about more things than just my looks. I can share about my unmet expectations in my life, my job(s), my relationships, and the list goes on.  BUT…It’s time to hit the stop button and throw that tape out.  Cuz the tape isn’t the last word.  And ultimately, that negative tape is not the truth.  The truth is that I am deeply loved and fully accepted, flaws and all.  And that same love and acceptance goes for all of us.  We are beautifully and wonderfully (and intentionally) made (Ps 139: 14).  We can lay all of our striving for those “shoulds” aside.  Actually, the best place for them is at the feet of the only One who is able to give us what we are looking for-- fulfillment and rest.  (Psalm 65:2, Matthew 11:29)  So, see ya Mr. Negative Tape!  It’s time for you to go.  There’s something and Someone better I’d like to listen to. 

 

And perhaps it’s time for all of us to put our flawed faces forward. 

 

 

 

“All of your flaws and all of my flaws,
When they have been exhumed
We'll see that we need them to be who we are
Without them we'd be doomed.”

Bastille—Flaws

"I think it's about forgiveness..."

I was talking with a few women yesterday about the topic of "forgiveness."  These women have walked through some very difficult times.  They have been betrayed and hurt by those they were closest to.  They have made choices themselves that are hard to move on from.  And in reality, we all have.  We've been the recipients of other's pain and insecurities.  We've been lashed out at, neglected, and sometimes even abused.  Forgiveness is often the most difficult thing to grasp in those situations. And even once we grasp it, it so easily slips away when we are reminded of the pain once again.

In Matthew 18:21 Peter asks Jesus how often he is to forgive his brother when he sins against him,
"up to seven times?"  (I'm sure Peter was feeling a bit generous with his offer.)  Jesus responds, "I tell you, not seven times but seventy-seven times."

I can only imagine that Peter and the other disciples are a bit taken aback.  Jesus, as usual, turned their thought process upside down.  Seven times seemed like the good and proper thing to do. Seventy seven times seems just a bit absurd.

This passage came to mind yesterday as we were hashing out what forgiveness looks like.  Just as much as I am called (actually, commanded) to forgive my brother or sister when they do multiple wrongs against me, I am also called to forgive them multiple times for the single wrong they have committed.  See, forgiveness is a fickle thing that requires a bit of long-term attention.  Even though I forgave that person in the past, the forgiveness doesn't alway stick.  There's a trigger, an incident, or simply a memory that brings that hurt to the surface.  Forgiveness somehow made an exit, even though I could've sworn I had already been there, done that.  So, I forgive them again, and again and again, sometimes what feels like seventy seven times, until one day they (and myself) are completely set free from that old wound.

So, Jesus basically denies the option to take the easy road out.  I can no longer speak words of forgiveness with my mouth while harboring old wounds in my heart and expect to check this command off my list.  Forgiveness is a continual choice, oftentimes, over and over and over again.

Yet, there's a promise to all of this.  Forgiveness IS possible.  There is hope that the pain of the past will no longer have a hold on our present.  Christ gave us this command because He has gone before us and lived this out.  He has forgiven us for the multitude of sins we have committed against him, including that one sin that keeps coming up multiple times.  And only through this forgiveness we have received in Him,  do we find a source of forgiveness to extend to others.

So, we are not alone. He has gone before us. And He is with us now, bringing us to the point of forgiveness, for ourselves and others, day in, day out, even more than seventy seven times...however long it takes.

As Don Henley would say, I think the heart of the matter (and rather, the matter of our hearts) is about forgiveness. 


"I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness..." 

passion post-passion

my small group is going through a study called "Restless" by Jennie Allen.  the timing in my life couldn't be better.  working 3 jobs and attempting to get settled into a new life leaves me feeling a bit crazy sometimes.  often I feel that my gifts and skills aren't being fully utilized, yet I am grateful for so many new experiences that are shaping me in different ways than before.  so, on one hand I'm thankful and on the other hand, well, I'm restless...

this week's study was about "passion."  it's super interesting b/c we're just coming off of "Passion Week." we often think that the general term "passion" has nothing to do with the "Jesus--passion play--crucifixion" kind of passion.  oh, but it does. :)  the word originates from a Latin word meaning "to suffer."  so, the passion of Christ led him to suffering and death, yet fulfilled such a larger purpose (even larger than we can possibly hope to grasp this side of heaven).  in that case, passion and suffering go hand in hand.  suffering and the fulfillment of purpose are intertwined with one another.  yet, we so often we only think of passion in the fun, pleasurable sense.  passions are there to serve ME, right?  wrong.  

for me, this means that even though my passions may be less than fulfilled right now, that there's still a lot of good work to be done.  my purpose is fulfilled in the day to day and even the mundane at times.  I fulfill that passion when I identify the needs of those around me and seek to use whatever resources I have to help.  it's found in seeing joy in the midst of whatever life throws at me and setting my hands to serve. 

I ran across this old blog post from January 2010.  it so well summarizes the passions that were being fulfilled at the time by encountering suffering and needs.  it's also a huge inspiration to continue to dig deep with others and find ways to serve those around me, whoever they may be.    

"trimming the kudzu" 

so, for those of you who don't know, i work at a non-profit crisis pregnancy center. we see many clients who are facing a crisis or unplanned pregnancy. through my work here, i have come face to face with the HUGE need for the issue of female sexuality to be addressed in our culture. 

it takes the shape of a 19 year old girl who came to me for STD information. she had felt out of place in her friend group b/c she was the only one who had not had sex. now, she has contracted a STD. 

it takes the form of the 17 year old girl who professed to a relationship with God, but realized she had searched for love by giving herself sexually to several guys. 

it's the girl who has already had 2 abortions by age 16 and is facing yet another pregnancy. yet, she has no job, no life skills, and no steady boyfriend to support her. 

these are just a few of the real-life stories that i have come across in the past few months, and this only scratches the surface. women all over america are faced with issues of sexuality from as young as elementary school. what can be done to help address this issue? 

recently, i re-read "reviving ophelia" by mary pipher. it's a book that discusses the influences on adolescent females and the changes that take place as they leave childhood behind. although, it's a little outdated (written in the 90's), i couldn't help but come to recognize some of the greater issues plaguing our women today--the loss of "true self" in an effort to fit in, the issues of sexuality, the role that culture and the media play, the influences of peer group...and the list goes on. when i look at our work at the pregnancy center i can only believe that we are merely conducting damage control. although we are able to help a client through a crisis situation, we aren't equipping them to combat all of these influences. we are merely "triage." and although this is the role we are called to play, i can't help but wonder if there's something that can be done to address some of the larger causes. 

i feel like we're merely cutting the leaves off of a kudzu of culture in our attempt to keep the parasitic plant from spreading. 

yet, when i become overwhelmed at all of the horrible messages that are being sent to women today...when i can't seem to figure out a way to even begin addressing all of the issues, i am reminded of the power of prayer. in my 45 minutes spent with a client, i can only hope to share some truth and empower her to make better choices, yet God is able to do take my efforts and multiply them. He is bigger than all of the issues. His power is greater than the influences. And He is not bound by culture's restrictions. the only way the kudzu will be tamed is through His strength--God's holy fire clearing the path. He has called you and me to be a part of that process--to speak truth into a broken world, to bind the wounds of the damaged, and to be the "triage" and hands of healing as long as we are able. 

when i am consumed by contempt for our loss of values or overwhelmed by the excessive grasp of our culture, i am reminded of His power...and I am grateful that i serve a God that is "able to do exceedingly, abundantly more than i can ever ask or imagine."

spin cycle

Routine. Order. Consistency.

These are things I crave, yet can only taunt me with a small semblance of their presence in my life.

Transition.  Change.  Newness.

These are things that I have more than enough of right now.

I wish there was more of a balance, that things would slow down and start normalizing.  But before we know it, the holidays will be here with their own set of expectations.  A new year will start with even more change.  And my longings will only partially be fulfilled.

In the end, I know this is a good thing, this spin cycle of transition.  I'll recirculate and come out on the end a new (hopefully more mature) person.  But I can't help but dig my heels in at times.  I find myself fighting the pull to curl up and let it pass.  It's too difficult to "get out there," too challenging to fight the pull towards equilibrium.  Yet, I know that I need to push through. There are goodness and lessons to be found in the chaos.

I find myself being inspired by stories lately of those who have persevered--the immigrant who works 40 hours a week then puts themselves through college at night, the single mom juggling 3 children and a career, the youth who has surpassed countless odds to make a name for themselves.  Perhaps I'm in awe of their tenacity, the sheer resilience they exhibit. Perhaps I wonder about my own ability to dig deep and bounce back if I were in their shoes.  Even so, their lives serve as an encouragement, a picture of what happens when you keep on trying.

So, today I find myself setting my alarm early, even if I don't have an appointment to get up for.  I search the internet for jobs.  I volunteer to help out with a ministry at church.  I ask people to get together to share a meal.  And I write this blog. I remind myself of the blessings in my life and the new position God has placed me in.  This season is different...it doesn't mean that it's bad.  It just means I'll be uncomfortable (and at times irritable), but it's during these times that God's work is most richly done.  I am forced to rely on Him--not my job, not my security, not even my "orderly" environment.  He wants more of me, and He's cultivating something unseen in my life.  What will it be? I'm not sure.  In the meantime, may I trust Him and be open to what is in store (and perhaps work on being a little less irritable). :)

black snow

as a transplant from Tennessee, I have learned a few things about Chicago weather over the past 4 years.  one is that winters are LONG and HARD.  the snow, the wind, and the freezing temps will tend to linger on through March and even April at times.  once you feel like it's over, there's another cold front that comes your way and snaps you back to reality.

yesterday was one of those days--sunny and 55 degrees.  everyone rejoiced.  people rode in their cars with their windows down (me).  runners hit the pavement.  men everywhere fired up their grills.  any excuse to go outside was taken advantage of and  I was no exception.  so, as soon as I got home, I threw on my running gear and headed out the door.

one thing to note is that as I mentioned before, the winters are HARD.  this winter was exceptionally so.  (by the records it was the hardest in like 20 years or something--not just by own personal experience, which will also testify to that.)  that means there was lots of snow.  so much so, that as it gets plowed from the streets and parking lots, there are huge mounds that are formed on the sides of the streets.  despite having temps above freezing for a few days, there were still some remnants of the snow mounds that remained at the bottom.  as I was running and dodging lots of puddles of water from this melting snow, I had quite the obvious observation.

the snow that's left is dirty.
black.
grimy.
and horribly unpleasant to look at.

unlike any form of snow that falls from the sky, this snow has sat there for MONTHS and turned a shade of brown that it never should have.  it has absorbed every ounce of exhaust from the cars that have driven past.  it has picked up the dirt and grime off the street as it was slung onto it from day to day.  it has soaked in the toxins from the environment around it.

this snow is an eye sore and it needs to go away.

but wait.  isn't snow white and fluffy and the thing of "winter wonderlands?" isn't it pure and spotless?  isn't it even represented in Scripture as something that cleanses us?

yes.  it's true.  in its natural state.

snow is clean until it's been corrupted by the environment around it.  it's not spoiled until the wear and tear of the winter--the cars and the smog and the CO2 soak in, making it black and yucky.

and the thought hit me.  I think people are like that too sometimes.

ever meet someone who is your same age, but looks 10 years older?  from time to time at my job, I will have a client who fits this description.  I am always amazed that we could have graduated the same year of high school and yet seem so utterly different.  almost every single time, I find out it's the wear and tear of life that has gotten to them--the amount of struggle, pain, addictions, or issues they have gone through that have smudged off their luster a bit.

although outside appearances may be one indication, it's truly our hearts that are most impacted.  ever meet someone who had it all together on the outside, but were crumbling away internally?  once the heat turned up, and the outside veneer seemed to fade away, what was truly underneath finally showed. and that was dark, dirty, and a little worse for the wear.

honestly, we are all like these snow banks.  we have been affected by sin, brokenness, and a corrupt world around us.  those things can't help but rub off on us over time.  so, when the spring comes and the temps soar, and the outside cleanliness is gone, the inner guts are revealed--and unfortunately, they are nothing but eye sores.

thank God for newness and cleansing that can only be found through Christ.  if it were up to me, I'd keep shoveling on new snow to keep anyone from noticing the black grossness beneath.  thankfully, I don't have to resort to that.  ya know why?  because that black crap gets taken away and replaced with new cleanness.  there's no need to cover and hide, b/c it has all been taken care of through the cross.  Jesus' blood has cleansed me in a way that my own efforts never could.

the Israelites in the Old Testament had a system in which they must make sacrifices for the cleansing of their hearts.  the problem was, these sacrifices were never quite enough--the snow always melted and the blackness resurfaced.  yet, when Jesus came, He served as the ultimate cleansing sacrifice.

"The blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkled on those who are ceremonially unclean sanctify them so that they are outwardly clean. How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!" Hebrews 9: 13-14

"Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow." Psalm 51:7
may this season of Lent be a time that we reflect upon the cleansing sacrifice that only He can provide.  thanks be to God for the newness that is found in Christ!

lessons from music and poetry

This morning at work, we had a professor from Wheaton College, Dr. Jerry Root, speak to us about the topic of Evangelism.  He's a very wise soul, one that you could sit and listen to for hours.  In the span of our time together, he spoke not only about evangelism and sharing the Gospel, but about all sorts of life lessons and faith applications.  One little snippet was a quote he shared from C.S. Lewis (he's a C.S. Lewis expert and scholar…to be expected).  He talked about how we have the tendency to re-read books from time to time, and how it's not the lack of knowledge of the content or plot that keeps us reading them, but rather it's something in the book that tugs at our hearts and creates in us some sort of longing for "other," ultimately a longing for heaven.  (Side note, Dr. Root also shared a story from the movie "The Notebook" and tied it to our deep relational need for God.  We need more men in the world like him. :))  Hearing all this today while also re-reading "Searching for God Knows What" by Donald Miller has gotten me to thinking.

Books and movies tend to capture our emotions, sweep us away in a story, and touch the longings of our hearts.  The same can be said for music, poetry, and art as well. I would even go so far to say that all of humanity has a certain form of appreciation for the arts in some capacity.  There's nothing quite like a beautiful song, a dramatic plot, or a carefully placed brush stroke to catch our attention and tug at something deeper within us.  And what is at the core of us, but our longing for God, for purpose, and for relationship? Yet, when it comes to our faith, we so often conceptualize it through the concrete and tangible--lists and rules, structure and organization.  We want to know our spiritual performance, measure our religious growth, and assess our relational status.  Yet, these structural concepts are not the things of sonnets or love stories.  These don't speak the language of artistic masterpieces, rhythmical melodies, or a lingering kiss.

So, what gives?

Here's the thing.  Let me share a little from my personal experience.  I have never been "good" at feelings.  Someone asks me how I feel, and my immediate response is "I think…"  So, when it comes to my faith, the graph chart approach works really well.  Break it down into something measurable, and I'm set.  Want me to check off a list of to-do's and then mark my progress on a timeline?  Sure, that would be great.  I spent the majority of my childhood and early teen years in this mindset.  Do this, don't do that, and get a gold star in heaven. Yet, turn the tables and ask me to "feel" and relate?  That's much more uncomfortable and unknown.

But the truth is, our faith IS relational. It's dynamic and ever-changing. There's a definite time and place for structure and discipline (believe me!), but it cannot be the basis of our faith.  We need the stuff of poets and lovers.  We need a close, intimate relationship with God, the One who loves us more than human words could ever convey.  No amount of structure or rules or formulas could ever replace or fabricate that.

May we be encouraged this week to bask in His presence and be overwhelmed by His love.

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" 1 John 3:1

small Light, dark world--so let it shine

During this Christmas season, my thoughts should be preoccupied with a Baby in a manger, wise men following a star, and a virgin birth in a little barn out in a far-off place called Bethlehem. Although these things are components to what I've been wrestling with, mostly I've been mulling over the concept of Light.

Perhaps John was thinking similarly when he penned these words:

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:1-5

That Light came in the form of a tiny little Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and laying in a manger, and it hasn't stopped shining since.  

The thing about light is that it's quite persistent.  It only takes a teeny tiny little spark to start a fire.  One small candle can illuminate even the darkest of corners.  

And the Light didn't end when that little Baby grew into a Man and suffered a cruel death on the cross. Instead, it persisted through even the darkest place of all--DEATH, and came back shining even brighter.  Now, this same brilliant Light lives inside all of His followers, as we seek to carry it to the corners of the earth, so that all may be illuminated. 

The Light is persistent and unstoppable, but the darkness is also cunning and tenacious.  It seeks to send strong winds, snuffing out flames wherever possible.  The lurking shadows and creeping fogs attempt to fill crevices and corners, spreading the darkness to reach even the most brightly lit places.  

The darkness will not win, in the end, however.  Light is always more powerful.  The darkness will meet it's final destruction one day, when all things will shine under the illumination of the True Light. Yet, things are not over yet.  Our work is not done.  There's a role for each of us to play as "light bearers."  How do we carry this Light into a dark world? 

Recently, I have heard too many stories of fellow Christians becoming prey to the sin and shame that only comes with the dark.  Secret struggles, shame and fear, and much more can be found lurking in the shadowy corners and recesses of our lives.  It's time to shed Light on these.  It's time for us to step out in faith, allow these areas of our lives to be exposed and cleansed, and to hold out our Light for others to see.  

This can only come through true recognition of those dark corners and an attitude of repentance.   Too easily we refuse to call sin for what it is.  It taints us, keeping us away from God, while also leaving its mark of destruction on both ourselves and those around us.  (See, sin never just affects us.)  It's time for us to rid ourselves of the shadows, and to walk in the Light.  

Light came to the world over 2,000 years ago.  That Light "shone in the darkness," and defeated sin and death on the cross.  Now, that Light shines in us.  A challenge is set before us this season.  How will this truth impact your life?  

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."  Matthew 5: 14-16

There's only one way to wash yourself clean
So let the dirt fall and get on your knees
There are a million scars for every mistake
Oh but we are not chained to the secrets that we've made
Oh but we are not chained to the secrets that we've made

So come let it
Come let it
Come let it
Come let it shine

"Come Let it Shine"--All Sons and Daugthers

Merry Christmas everyone!  May we celebrate the Light.  

independently connected

i've been thinking about friendship, community, and relationships lately.  (part of this may be due to the fact that I am reading "Four Loves" by C.S. Lewis. darn you, Lewis--you make me think!)
...

it's interesting how inextricably woven together we are as human beings.  yet, on the same hand, we find ourselves fiercely independent of each other.

we need each other.  we need laughter and hugs and a listening ear.  we need long talks and a hand to hold.  we need confession,  exhortation, and correction.

yet, we need autonomy.  we need space.  we need to "own" our own decisions and feel like we are staying true to our sense of self.  we need solitude and peace and quiet.

we are connected, yet separated.  our minds, actions, and wills are our own.  we learn and grow from one another.  we become better versions of ourselves.

but ourselves we will always be.

our decisions are just that...they are "ours."  we can pray for one another. we can offer insight, guidance, and sometimes a good ol' smack in the face.  yet, our realm of control only extends so far.  each person must lie in the bed they have made.

connected, yet separate.  and that's ok.  it's actually a beautiful thing.  longing for relationship, yet still finding ourselves alone with our own thoughts at the end of the day.  loving, laughing, and listening, yet still solitary.

the truth is, we'll never feel complete.  we'll never feel fully "known" or connected to others.  and that's ok too.  just like anything else, relationships and community can get off-kilter.  instead, this tension, this vacuum, is meant to instill hope, an anticipation for the future.  the hope that one day things will be different.  when every tear is wiped away, and when we can finally see "face to face."

"now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

and for that day we wait.  til then, we walk this path alone...yet, together.

Maybe we aren't made for this much awareness.

As I scroll through my newsfeed, I can be bombarded with information regarding a tornado that swept through Central Illinois, a typhoon that hit the Philippines, someone who locked their child up in a cage, multiple people’s battles with cancer and disease, childlessness, joblessness, break-ups, and the list goes on.  On the internet I can get updates on national disasters and local injustices, all within a click of the button.  I am more aware of the pain and tragedy in the world than I was even 10 years ago.  The question I have to ask myself is, “am I the better for it?” 

I think about how things were in my grandparents’ time.  They grew up in the Great Depression; they were no strangers to injustice, pain, starvation, and suffering.  They lived through World War II and heard first hand the destruction that humanity was capable of.  They were familiar with the roads that evil, disease, and unemployment can take a society down.  And all of this occurred while technology was advancing.   They had newspapers and telephones to pass information on the world’s occurrences.  Information was received much more rapidly than even their parents had experienced.  Yet, things were relayed so much differently during their time.  News travelled fast in the small town where my grandparents lived because everyone knew each other’s business (good or bad).  Word spread from person to person.  You got a phone call from your neighbor down the street and you heard the intonation in the person’s voice as they shared the tough news.  Or you read it on the headlines of today’s newspaper.  You saw the images printed in black in white, perhaps after several days had already passed and it would’ve e been considered “old news.” 

We have a much different experience today.  Instead, we are bombarded with hundreds of pieces of information each minute.  Many of them are negative.  And as much as I am all about raising awareness to the issues going on in the world, I start to wonder if we were made to handle all of this.  We reach a certain point where we become anesthetized to the suffering around us.  The headlines on the evening news are tragic, yet we only give them a cursory glance while chatting with our children over the dinner table.  We could justify this response by saying that those people are “half a world way,” yet even when tragedy strikes next door, we are hardly impacted.  Children are being shot in gang wars in the streets just 30 miles away and we are unaffected.  And what about those headlines that are even closer?  What about our “friends” on our news feeds?   We encounter tons of information from our “friends” daily on social media sites such as Facebook, yet how often are we actually affected by someone else’s suffering when they post about it online?  We may take a second to pause and pray or let the news sink in, yet it doesn't seem to carry the same effect as it did years ago.  Perhaps we have gotten so over-informed that we truly aren't informed at all.  Is there such a plethora of information that we have to sort through on a day to day basis, that we have begun to ignore the most important pieces around us--the lives of others that are impacted right in front of our eyes (literally)?  Could it be that the human mind (and heart) is meant to only process so much?  Are we handicapping ourselves by taking in too much information?   

I can't begin to know the answers to these questions. Yet at the same time,  I can't help but notice the effects of information overload in my own life and ponder its aftermath.  At what point will we say, "something has to change?"  Until then, we can each be intentional about noticing the truly noteworthy news in our world, and pausing to feel the pain, suffering, and burdens of others who have been affected by tragedy around us.    

gym thoughts: some things can't be replicated

Today I went for a bike ride after work.  The rain had just stopped and the pavement was still smelling like fresh moisture.  The clouds in the sky were turning blue, purple, and red while the sun was setting over the tree line.  I followed the pavement to my favorite trail and marveled at the tall prairie grass that was beginning to turn brown as autumn approaches.  I saw squirrels, rabbits, and birds.  Geese were walking around the marshland, searching for sustenance.  Gravel was crunching beneath my bicycle tires as I listened to the sound of crickets in the woods around me.  I had to pause to thank God for His beautiful creation and allowing me to be a part of this wonderful sensory experience tonight.

I couldn't help but contrast this rich moment with my experiences exercising at the gym.  Just last night I was on a mechanical stationary device whose sole purpose was to help me increase my heart rate by moving my legs up and down in a repetitive motion for 20 minutes.  All of this takes place in a sterile environment while watching TV and listening to Top 40.  Three times a week I walk into an indoor exercise room where I "clock in" and do my duty to help ensure that I don't die and early death due to cardiac arrest and high cholesterol.  I had a moment where I realized that not only do I subject myself to doing repetitive motions on a man-made device in order to participate in physical activity, but that I also think that it's NORMAL to do so.  Something is just missing.

Perhaps it's the fact that I am not actually going anywhere while I'm moving.  I am not feeling the wind as I run, or my feet hitting the pavement.  I don't see the sunset over the horizon, or the suicidal chipmunk that runs in the middle of the path.

Or perhaps its because I'm a slave to a machine all day, every day.  I sit in front of a machine at work.  I check a machine throughout the day to see if someone has tried to contact me.  I drive a machine to and from home.  I am so inundated with machines, that at times, you start to wonder if you ARE one.

Or perhaps my discontent with the gym comes from the lack of dynamic opportunities.  I don't walk away having felt like I experienced much of anything (besides other people's body odor).  I don't feel like I participated in something "bigger" than myself.  Sure, I feel healthier.  I feel stronger, and those things cannot be discounted, but there's something to be said about being in creation and realizing how truly small we really are.

So, will I go to the gym tomorrow?  Probably.  But will I long for something different?  Definitely.  In the meantime, I will keep attempting to lower my cholesterol.

I'm A Qualifier

I have recently been reading through some of Paul's letters in the New Testament--you know, the "General Electric Power Company"--Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians.  Well, throughout this process various passages have caught my attention that have never stood out to me before.  Colossians 1:12-14 was no exception.  The passage says, "...giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light.  For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins."  

The word "qualified" really grabbed my attention. I thought it was interesting that Paul used this word in particular.  I recently ran in the Chicago Half Marathon, and perhaps sports analogies were on the brain, but I thought immediately about what it means to "qualify" for something.   There are lots of things we have to qualify for in life, in order to "get ahead."  You must "qualify" for the Boston Marathon.  You muse have the work experience necessary to "qualify" for a promotion.  Your ACT scores must "qualify" you for college admission.  In all of these examples, you must meet a certain standard in order to be able to attain the positive outcome.  There are certain qualifications that must be met.  

In this passage, Paul says that we have been "qualified to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light."  What standards would be necessary for such an inheritance?  How would we go about qualifying to be a part of this kingdom?  The word "light" seems to give us a big clue. It would seem like I need to be good, pure, and clean.  "Light" isn't rusty, rotting, or dirty.  It isn't broken down or corrupt.  It's shiny, bright and new.  So, that leads me to believe that I am immediately disqualified.  My abilities to produce things of light seem quite low.  If left to my own devices, I will not be able to meet these standards.  

It's interesting that Paul doesn't describe God as just overlooking our abilities to meet the qualifications.  He doesn't say that God ignores our faults and weaknesses.  He isn't like the coach who turned a blind eye while his player used performance enhancing drugs.  He isn't like the supervisor that promoted an employee simply based on politics.  Nor is he like the professor who let his student cheat during an exam.    Instead, he gives us what we need to meet the qualifications.  

How does that work?  Don't I need to be perfect to meet the qualifications? Well, yes.  You do.  

The Greek word for "qualified" means to "make sufficient, to render fit." And God has done just that.  He  offered up the perfect sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ, so that we might qualify.  We have now been imputed with His righteousness, so that our shortcomings, faults and failures no longer keep us from fulfilling the standard.  We have been made "fit" for the kingdom.  

Thanks be to God for this indescribable gift!  So, the next time that you feel that you just don't "qualify" and are tempted to be discouraged, remember this truth.  God has not just turned a blind eye to your shortcomings, but instead He has "qualified" you for an inheritance in the kingdom of light! He has given us all we need to meet the standards for the most amazing qualification we could ever hope for.  

rebuilding, renewing, restoring

"I can't believe my baby is in heaven without also believing I am going to hell for the choice I made." --client who experienced an abortion

"The last thing I remember is setting my drink down and going to the bathroom. Then, I woke up the next morning and couldn't remember what happened." --client who was sexually assaulted at a party

"The family had an intervention. She agreed to go to rehab. She goes to the program, talks to the staff and decides that it's not a good fit for her."-- friend who's family member is battling addiction 

This week, I have listened to stories about abuse, addiction, and brokenness. It's in these times that it is easy to become weighed down by the pain around you. Yet, in the midst of this I was reminded of a verse of Scripture: "They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations." (Isaiah 61:4)

I'm so glad, in the midst of these moments, that I never have to lose hope. I serve a God who is in the business of rebuilding, restoring, and renewing. Regardless of the level of "ruin" that exists or the amount of time it has existed in our lives, God is able to turn it into something worthwhile. He is able to take even the toughest, darkest parts of our lives and bring about something beautiful. This is my prayer not only for these women, but for you and me as well. May we never lose sight of HOPE. 

"be with Him and be sent out"

Yesterday I was reading from Mark 3. In this passage, Jesus has just recently started His ministry. He has been healing the sick, paralyzed, and demon possessed. He has already gained so much attention for these acts, that he can no longer go into a town without a huge crowd demanding his attention. So, in Mark chapter 3, when he wants to have some quality time with His disciples, he walks up a mountain and asks them to follow. Mark doesn't record the words that were spoken up on that mountaintop that day, but this was the moment of "calling" for the apostles. This was the time they can point back to and say, "this is where it started." Christ imparted a powerful sense of direction for their lives and future ministries. As Mark describes it in verse 14, "... (Jesus) went up on the mountain and called to him those whom he desired, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve (whom he also named apostles) so that they might be with him and he might send them out."


Here's an excellent example of what leaders call a "statement of purpose" Jesus calls 12 of those closest to Him and gives them two mandates that they are to order their lives and ministry around from this point forward: 1) Be with Him and 2) Be sent out.


If you think about it, the same mission that was given for these 12 apostles 2,000 years ago is awaits us today. The two simple mandates for us to live our lives by, are also imparted as our own: be with Him and be sent out. Yet, how often do we struggle with either the lack of implementation or the overexertion of these purposes? We either add 10 million other things to our "list" of mandates or we feel like the two we were given are far too impossible. Beware of falling into either of these traps. We can't live a life of self-defeat, nor a life of Christian perfectionism. We must get back to this original "statement of purpose" for our lives. As modern disciples, it's time for us to reorient ourselves to the two same mandates given all those many years ago: BE with Him and BE sent out! Can you imagine how the world may be impacted if we were to dedicate our lives to this? 2,000 years ago, the original disciples left their mark on the kingdom due to following these mandates. May the same be said of us 2,000 years from now.

realignment

I was reading a devotional this morning and walked away feeling both challenged and encouraged.  We don't realize how impactful having an incorrect (or small) perception of God is on our day-to-day lives.  "We must see and believe Him as big enough, kind enough, real enough, and strong enough to move in power in our everyday lives..."  Indeed, we must. May we be enamored by the "bigness" of God, so much so, that our own finite perception of the world, our problems, and ourselves, is aligned with His infinite perspective--a perspective that contains never-ending love and all-surpassing power.  

We Could Change the World by Matt Redman

“We believe that Your grace is stronger than all our faults and failures, we believe that Your love is deeper than our hearts could fathom…so could we live like this?”

A big view of God is a cure for so many of the things in life that would stand in our way or slow us down in ministry. When we really grasp the heights of who He is, and the depths of His heart for us, and the strength of His power in us, we can live a whole different kind of life. The way we view God will radically affect how our lives operate. Do we really get the fact that His grace is so strong it can cover all of our faults and weaknesses? Have we faced up to the fact that He is strong and wise enough to see us around, or through, even the most difficult of obstacles?

There must be nothing in our hearts, minds or lives that overshadows the truth of who God is. We must see and believe Him as big enough, kind enough, real enough and strong enough to move in power in our everyday lives- no matter what we’re facing. The first step for a worshipper is to confidently get to grips with just how magnificent and mighty He is. The next step is to let that confidence in God seep into the very depths of our hearts and minds, forming a holy confidence on the inside of us. When that truly happens, we will dream bigger dreams and live brighter lives.

Psalm 18 contains the heart-flow of an optimistic, bright-thinking worshipper. He approaches life with a great big view of who he can be, and he can do, in God:

“With Your help I can advance against a troop, with my God I can scale a wall”…He enables me to stand on the heights.” (v.29, v.33)

I wonder if you are in the depths today, struggling to think brightly or find a solution to a dilemma? Perhaps you are facing a battle you feel too weak to fight- or obstacles you feel powerless to climb? Let the optimistic outlook of the psalmist inspire you today. You are not alone in the struggles you face, or the help you need. Join with that ancient biblical songwriter in his confident proclamation, right here and now, and let it become your motto for today: “He enables me to stand upon the heights.”

Thoughts From A Tennessee Cocoon

This was a poem that I wrote in a poetry class in 2008.  I minimally edited it for this blog.

This poem seems fitting as the sweltering heat of summer finally begins to settle in.  It also feels particularly poignant now that I have moved away and not only reminisce on childhood summers, but also summers in my home state of Tennessee.

Thoughts From A Tennessee Cocoon

Fireflies flitter,
electrify the night.
A cricket's melody floats
on pockets of sticky air.
Tennessee summer heat,
too stubborn to leave with the sun,
too reluctant to relent.
Even the cool bed sheets,
a cocoon too soon occupied,
now cramped with clammy air.
Still the constant zephyr,
the sweet solstice swoons,
sweeping over my face,
whispering pleasures of life,
pleasures of summer.

Before drifting asleep
on a cricket's-sung tale,
another story settles in my ear,
summoning recollection--my own
days at Cherokee Circle,
sun-bleached hair, bicycle fringe.
Exploring the mimosa,
tanned body clambering,
resting in its arms,
outstretched.  My bony fingers finding
its pods, patiently peeling husks,
bean by bean,
the entertainment of onlies.
Here awaken days of my own--
days of summer.

Now at the end,
I quietly surrender
to the comfort of my own bed,
to the call of the cicada's tune,
and the cool wind's breath
mumbling sighs of a forgotten time--
uttering murmurs of childhood,
murmurs of summer.

What is our Foundation? Devotional Thoughts from 2003

I read 1 Corinthians 3:11 this morning and I was reminded of a devotional I gave about 10 years ago.  I was chaplain of a club in college at that time and had shared some thoughts about this verse.  I rummaged through my old journals and was able to find the entry from this devotional.  It was an encouragement for me to read it this morning, so I thought perhaps it might be an encouragement for you as well.  :)  (I have slightly adapted it to make it more applicable.)

WHAT IS OUR FOUNDATION

"What is something that we strive for? What is our sole pursuit? What do we desire above all else?

When I think of this, I am reminded of a verse I ran across last semester--1 Corinthians 3:11.  'For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid which is Jesus Christ.' My prayer is that this would be our theme.  When I was asked what my vision was for this club, I said 'love and unity,' but above all else I desire that we get back to our foundation, that we renew our passionate pursuit of Christ.  For you see, unity, friendship, and loving one another are all noteworthy causes, but they are not a foundation.  Fellowship, Bible studies, serving others, and all the things we stand for are good fruit, but they are not a foundation.  Christ is our foundation and our pursuit is to glorify Him.

For if we fail at this, we fail completely.  If we fail to glorify God, we fail at serving others.  If we fail to glorify God, we fail at unity.  If we fail to glorify God, we fail at fellowship.  If we fail to glorify God, we fail at loving one another.  'For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid which is Jesus Christ.'

I am reminded of a person in the Bible who truly understood this--the lady with the alabaster jar.  She was so focused on Christ that she was willing to be shamed, willing to sacrifice all, willing to risk everything to break her alabaster jar at the Savior's feet.  The disciples, when they saw her act of worship, thought it was a waste--even though they loved Jesus.  Matthew 26:8-9 says that they were 'indignant' because the perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor.  But Jesus commended the woman because she had realized what was most important.

See, the disciples had a good cause.  You could even say that they desired to do an act of service to Jesus by offering money to the poor, but they came about it in the wrong way--their focus wasn't in the right place.  Although the woman with the alabaster jar may have seemed wasteful in the eyes of others, she was commended in the sight of her Lord, for she sacrificed all she had to glorify Him.  She put everything aside for her passionate pursuit.  She knew WHO her foundation was and did all she could to honor him.

Can the same be said of us?  Are we more like the disciples--pursuing good 'causes' but forgetting our focus?  Or are we more like the woman--remembering the most important thing, our Foundation, and giving all we have to glorify Him?  For no other foundation can we lay, than that which is laid which is Jesus Christ. "

Seeking Out Shekhinah

"In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the

Majesty in heaven." Hebrews 1:1-3

Have you ever thought about the “glory” of God?  What is IT?  To the audience that is listening to Hebrews for the first time, they are very familiar with God’s glory.  Most scholars believe that we aren’t quite sure who the author of the book of Hebrews is, but they tend to agree that the book (or sermon) is directed towards a group of Jewish Christians who are now reconsidering their faith in Christ due to trials or persecution. 

The Jewish people knew about God’s glory.  They had SEEN it.

Remember when Moses began leading the people out of Egypt?  There was a cloud to guide them by day and a pillar of fire to guide them by night.  God’s glory. 

Remember when Moses went up to Mt Sinai and the cloud covered the mountain?  When he came down, his face was radiant, and he had to hide it from the people.  The glory of God.

Remember when Moses asked to SEE God’s glory?  God had to hide him behind a rock and pass by, while covering with His hand.  THAT is the glory of God.

So, for the readers (or listeners) of Hebrews, they understood the weight of God’s glory.  This was something powerful and majestic.  It’s the essence of God.  And no man can stand in it’s presence. 

And Moses wasn’t the only one in the Bible who wanted to encounter this powerful yet deadly force of God.  This morning I read Psalm 44.  In this heart-felt confession, David seeks out the glory of God as well.

"Send out your light and your truth;
   
let them lead me;
let them bring me to your holy hill
   
and to your dwelling!
Then I will go to the altar of God,
   
to God my exceeding joy,
and I will praise you with the lyre,
   
O God, my God."

David ASKS to go to the “holy hill,” to the dwelling of God.  David grew up hearing the stories of the cloud on the mountain.  He knew what it meant to ascend the hill.  Exodus 24 calls God’s glory on the mountain a “devouring fire.”  Even God tells Moses, “man shall not see me and live.”  Yet, this is what David requests—to be brought to God’s holy dwelling.

I can’t help but compare myself to David.  I have to ask myself if I have the same amount of desire.  If I KNEW that it could cost me my life, would I still be willing to ask to experience God’s presence?

The funny thing is, it does cost me my life.

Hebrews 1:2 tells us that Jesus is the “radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being.” To encounter Christ is to encounter the Shekhinah glory of God.  Yet, just as it was with Moses and David, it’s not without a cost. 

Christ paid that price for me to be able to encounter the glory of God and still live.  Yet, despite the weight of this sacrifice, I am so easily satisfied with the things in my life that I don’t actively seek out more of God’s glory.  I am challenged by the desire of Moses and David, who wanted to experience God in His fullness, even if it meant laying their own lives down.

Today, I have been given an even greater opportunity than Moses and David had. I have Christ living inside of me—“the exact representation of God.”  This was something they could only dream of and long for.  So, what’s next?  To what extent am I willing to go to experience more of God? Moses and David only had to ask.  Perhaps I should start there too.