Sometimes I read Paul over and over, talking about how "what he doesn't want to do, he finds himself doing, and what he does want to do, he finds that he can't..." and his constant pain, wound, problem, issue- whatever, to which God says, "My Grace is sufficient for you..."
I feel for Paul, and I wonder about God in that. A lot. I mean, God says that His grace is sufficient...but doesn't really give any idea as to how we are supposed to make that reality. I mean, God can say a lot of things, true things, powerful things, but for us sin-splattered humans, us sheeple, we really need specifics. So, do I close my eyes and click my heels, and grace will be sufficient? Does it require an abundance of faith? Because we all know my faith is like shifting sand, so on Monday and Tuesday grace may be sufficient, but by Wednesday, uh, what's this about grace now? I got nothin'.
When you feel the way you feel, when you have no direction for your emotions, when you can't explain them away, or chalk yourself up to being a sinful person who will never be ok...and somebody wants to say, Grace is sufficient...yeah, I wanna smack them. Forgive me, but sometimes I don't have enough faith to see Grace, so it is then, I suppose, that I am grasping for mercy.
Mercy, I recognize. Because when I am constantly too weak to see Grace, too cowardly to seek grace and understand it, accept it...mercy is on my doorstep. Because every time I am down in the mire of my own self-loathing, my own little chains that I keep in my secret closet of sinfulness and pride and just humanity...Time and again there will be the Hand of Mercy reaching out to me, to pull me out. I know this. I may not feel it all the time, but I know it. I know the God that I worship, that I seek, that I love. I don't know all of Him, who can, really? But I know enough to trust that mercy will always be there. It's hard to accept a gift you don't deserve- grace. But mercy- not getting what you DO deserve- who isn't going to let that fall on them like sweet, cleansing rain?
These days are rough. My mind is in tumult and my soul is screaming- for no particular reason. Just when I've had it with myself, and I think surely, God has had it with me as well, I see that word, or hear it spoken, sung in a song- mercy. His mercy is abundant, and it never fails. May I never lose sight of that, may I never lose my amazement, my awe in Him and His ability to dole it out. I never want to be pas'e about mercy. It will always be incredible and I will always be desperate for it.
So thank you, Lord, for mercy.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Monday, November 14, 2011
Standing on the Edge of Myself: God, Guitars, and Jennifer Knapp
I believe in things coming full-circle. I just don't expect it to take a decade or more.
In early 1998, I was an angst-ridden teenager with notches in my belt for each of the ways I tried to cope with the reality before me. Alanis Morissette had me growing my hair miles long and lamenting "Uninvited" love, and I hadn't really experienced any actual invited attention up to that point. Sheryl Crow was making enough mistakes to have a "Favorite" and I had not quite mustered up the guts to make any real mistakes in all of my 17-18 years. Sarah McLachlan was all broken up about some Adia girl, I had nothing like that going on...But you get the picture. My reality was something altogether different than any of the music being offered to my ears.
To say I was searching for something may sound so cliche, but it is, in fact, what I was doing. Searching for myself, for God, for whatever it was in life that made it worth, you know, living. I wasn't suicidal, by any measure, but I felt like a person going through motions. Playing a part, being who I was supposed to be in my culture, my post-modern American Christiandom Consumer culture. But, secretly, on the inside, I was some kind of wanna-be bleeding-heart poet person, swimming in overly-complex philosophical thought all the day long. "Tired of choking in the shallow water I've been in, ready to be baptized with water and blood, come on push me under..."
One day during that swim stands out amongst the others.
I was 17, nearly 18, and attending some Christian music concert at the old Hershey Stadium. I was not overly-enthused, but just going because I was forcing myself to be social, and it sure beat sitting up in my room playing three chords on my guitar and thinking way too much.
Imagine my absolute glee when a twenty-something chick hits the stage with a guitar and starts singing these songs, with these words that just heaped gasoline onto the flames of my brain. Not to even mention the voice, sweet Lord, that voice was like a bolt of lightning that cracked into your ears and just lit up your soul. This girl was singing from her soul, that much was true. And I loved every second. I remember the exact feeling during that whole set, I had abandoned my friend to get closer to the stage, standing there amongst strangers, listening to something pure...I was nearly out of my skin. Just kept thinking, 'this, this is too much, incredible, who writes words like that? How does she think these things and sing these things and...' I don't remember how long the set was, but I remember nearly crying as she walked off stage, and then bolting to the merch table to pick up a copy of her cd, Kansas. Yeah. That was my introduction to Jennifer Knapp.
That cd, Kansas, was an oddity in my collection. I played that thing to death. Literally, it no longer functions, the lyric booklet is wrinkled, ripped, taped up, torn. The red pattern printed on the cd is all scratched up and peeling off. I loved that cd...loved it. Each song brings back a feeling, a moment- whether good or bad, or whatever. I remember growing through that music. I learned the songs on my guitar, quote them in conversation, they are a part of me. Truly. I was unable to buy another copy of the cd, just because I'm weird like that, it was so overwhelming that first time, hearing JKnapp, buying the cd, and then the rest of my life happened...I just couldn't go to a crappy music store and buy another copy. (Sorry, JKnapp.) I still have that cd, somewhere. We have moved so many times, and since it is truly in pieces, its...somewhere, in a box. I have a little heart-attack when I think about not knowing where it is, because of it's sentimental value...so I try not to think about it, la la la, not thinking, la la la.
I weaved in and out of Jennifer Knapp phases during my life, I wasn't overly-fanatical, but she definitely had a place in my life that other singers couldn't really claim...maybe Elton John, but he was more from age 12-18, whereas JKnapp was in the crucial, just entering adulthood era, I'm sure God totally had that planned out. Upon realizing she had released other cds (I did not exactly follow the Christian music scene) I scooped them up like precious gold or something- some months I just pushed repeat and listened over and over and over. I love her words. I love to think on them, it's like Dr. Seuss, Oh the Thinks you can Think! I started to write my own stuff in 2005 or so, learned a few more chords on my own crappy guitar...to say I was inspired isn't quite getting the whole idea. If my soul says I am some kind of poet/artist/singer person, then I am inclined to be that way with much help and non-specific encouragement from a total stranger, who happens to write and sing what I long to write and sing, if my actual physical skill would catch up to my brain. "Don't fear, don't fall, just turn and face the wall..."
However,
God was imprinting on my life, and I was constantly in the middle of trying to figure Him out, or figure myself out in light of Him. Who the hell am I, first of all, and once I figure that out, I have to figure out who YOU want me to be, God? Seriously? Why does everything have to be so heavy? I am waging constant mind-war most of the time, even today, as I go through the motions of this regular life. "...I'm like a convict with my hands locked over my head, I'm a dead man walking..."
So, one day I am planning to sing a great JKnapp tune, Hallowed, for our special communion service at church. That same time, I get an email from someone who writes, "I know you like her music, but you should know this..." and it's a headline about Jennifer Knapp coming out. Most people would probably gasp, or be all shocked and I don't know, heartbroken? Seriously folks. I may have only seen her that one time in concert, but, really. My honest reaction, 'Duh. That was a secret?' My real shock was in how everyone else reacted. Like she was killing puppies and kittens or something. In the midst of everyone else hoo-ing and haw-ing like they had been hoodwinked or something, I was honestly taken aback by their immediate transformation into pharisees. All of a sudden, JKnapp could no longer claim Christ. What?!? "I'm the one who keeps it on the inside, locked away from judgements wrong- I'm the one who keeps it on the inside, so they leave me alone..."
Jennifer Knapp was instrumental in my figuring myself out. Ok, maybe I don't want to give her that much credit, but I can seriously re-tell the story of my youth using her song lyrics. (Judge me not, ye saints, though my history may be tainted...) I do owe her a slight debt of gratitude for my sanity, I think, and for my current understanding of God, as He revealed Himself in my life. Which, coincidentally, pretty much has a Jennifer Knapp soundtrack. Like, picture my mom screaming up the stairs for me to turn down my music, circa 1999. What music am I turning down? Jennifer Knapp. Yeah, probably a little bit of Romans up in here, or Charity...they just need to be loud. What wonderful mix-tape is Seth ejecting as quickly as possible from the Jeep's tape deck, circa 2004, (how did I marry a man who doesn't enjoy JK?)...my trusty, all-encompassing JKnapp mix, complete with the oddball Wishing Well tunes that you can't find anywhere but eBay.
Anyway, let's fast forward to a few weeks ago, shall we? Because of my very best friend, also named Jen, whom God has blessed me with, undoubtably, I was on my way to New Jersey, to see Jennifer Knapp. Not just hear a concert- which would have seriously been amazing, but to hear her SPEAK. I already thought of her as brilliant, smart, genius, wordsmith of awesomeness, and I really had only heard her music. This is where we come full circle, folks.
Where the 17-year-old version of myself just went ga-ga over a singer singin' some songs, this older, "wiser" version of me was going to meet someone who's words were seriously etched into my psyche. What, exactly, do you say to such a person? Without sounding like a simple 'fan'? But also without sounding like some idol-worshipper?
I was on my way to meet Jennifer Knapp. Deep breath. Even after convincing myself in my head that I should never want to meet her, because it would be too brief, too fleeting, and I would never be able to convey how much her words meant, her voice, her songs...and would she even want to hear that? That's a hefty load, I would think. So, rather than have to balance my absolute love for JKnapp with like, rational human behavior...I resigned myself to not wanting to ever meet her or anything like that. But, God had other plans.
I met Jennifer Knapp. Yes, I did. Should I say it again? I met Jennifer Knapp. Met, spoke with, laughed with, hell, she even saw the words to one of my songs (sneaky best friend Jen...)- how the universe lined up for that to happen...I cannot comment on that. I was blessed. Beyond anything I deserve. Beyond anything I could have conjured in my head. Even as I totally stuttered my way through the first question I asked her (in front of the rest of the audience...of course- can't speak to save my life, but writing on a tablet strung around my neck would probably be more odd than the stutter, methinks.)and even though I could hardly breathe the entire time- I was swimming in some kind of euphoria. Every moment is forever in my brain, I can call them up and recall that utterly awesome time...a gift. A gift. As if the music, the feeling within it, the truth, honesty, the real-ness of it all- as if that isn't a gift itself?
I bought another copy of Kansas on that day. Took a little drive by myself a few days after the whole thing, played that cd front to back. The second I heard those first echo-y words of Faithful to Me, that was it. I was 17 again, discovering God, discovering versions of me, filtering life through various lenses, learning how to 'be'. Listening to those songs at 31, I realize, shucks, I'm still doing that same exact thing today. Making bad decisions, figuring stuff out, failing God, watching Him turn failures into something wonderful...just trying to be more than I was the day before. "Standing on the edge of myself, you know I'm longing for it- dive in, dive in..." I will always feel like this crazy, wayward spirit, stuffing myself into this 'normal' role of mother, wife, daughter, sister, Jesus-follower woman. There are moments I want to break out of that- ready to burst out of myself and just wreak havoc everywhere, on everyone, and truthfully, a little JKnapp music will steady my soul. I've chosen to be this version of me, in spite of my many options, some might have been 'truer' than others, but more difficult, and that does come with mental/spiritual/emotional consequences. Steady on, though, with a little music to make the way merrier... "Your voice will push me over the edge, you know I'm longing for it...dive in, dive in."
This life is weird. Nonsensical, tragic, beautiful, boring, and downright cruel sometimes. Knowing other people feel the same, or at least thinking they feel the same because they write songs with words and feelings that echo my own...its a comfort.
Nobody wants to be an island.
"I may be a fool to some, hero to others, but to you..."
In early 1998, I was an angst-ridden teenager with notches in my belt for each of the ways I tried to cope with the reality before me. Alanis Morissette had me growing my hair miles long and lamenting "Uninvited" love, and I hadn't really experienced any actual invited attention up to that point. Sheryl Crow was making enough mistakes to have a "Favorite" and I had not quite mustered up the guts to make any real mistakes in all of my 17-18 years. Sarah McLachlan was all broken up about some Adia girl, I had nothing like that going on...But you get the picture. My reality was something altogether different than any of the music being offered to my ears.
To say I was searching for something may sound so cliche, but it is, in fact, what I was doing. Searching for myself, for God, for whatever it was in life that made it worth, you know, living. I wasn't suicidal, by any measure, but I felt like a person going through motions. Playing a part, being who I was supposed to be in my culture, my post-modern American Christiandom Consumer culture. But, secretly, on the inside, I was some kind of wanna-be bleeding-heart poet person, swimming in overly-complex philosophical thought all the day long. "Tired of choking in the shallow water I've been in, ready to be baptized with water and blood, come on push me under..."
One day during that swim stands out amongst the others.
I was 17, nearly 18, and attending some Christian music concert at the old Hershey Stadium. I was not overly-enthused, but just going because I was forcing myself to be social, and it sure beat sitting up in my room playing three chords on my guitar and thinking way too much.
Imagine my absolute glee when a twenty-something chick hits the stage with a guitar and starts singing these songs, with these words that just heaped gasoline onto the flames of my brain. Not to even mention the voice, sweet Lord, that voice was like a bolt of lightning that cracked into your ears and just lit up your soul. This girl was singing from her soul, that much was true. And I loved every second. I remember the exact feeling during that whole set, I had abandoned my friend to get closer to the stage, standing there amongst strangers, listening to something pure...I was nearly out of my skin. Just kept thinking, 'this, this is too much, incredible, who writes words like that? How does she think these things and sing these things and...' I don't remember how long the set was, but I remember nearly crying as she walked off stage, and then bolting to the merch table to pick up a copy of her cd, Kansas. Yeah. That was my introduction to Jennifer Knapp.
That cd, Kansas, was an oddity in my collection. I played that thing to death. Literally, it no longer functions, the lyric booklet is wrinkled, ripped, taped up, torn. The red pattern printed on the cd is all scratched up and peeling off. I loved that cd...loved it. Each song brings back a feeling, a moment- whether good or bad, or whatever. I remember growing through that music. I learned the songs on my guitar, quote them in conversation, they are a part of me. Truly. I was unable to buy another copy of the cd, just because I'm weird like that, it was so overwhelming that first time, hearing JKnapp, buying the cd, and then the rest of my life happened...I just couldn't go to a crappy music store and buy another copy. (Sorry, JKnapp.) I still have that cd, somewhere. We have moved so many times, and since it is truly in pieces, its...somewhere, in a box. I have a little heart-attack when I think about not knowing where it is, because of it's sentimental value...so I try not to think about it, la la la, not thinking, la la la.
I weaved in and out of Jennifer Knapp phases during my life, I wasn't overly-fanatical, but she definitely had a place in my life that other singers couldn't really claim...maybe Elton John, but he was more from age 12-18, whereas JKnapp was in the crucial, just entering adulthood era, I'm sure God totally had that planned out. Upon realizing she had released other cds (I did not exactly follow the Christian music scene) I scooped them up like precious gold or something- some months I just pushed repeat and listened over and over and over. I love her words. I love to think on them, it's like Dr. Seuss, Oh the Thinks you can Think! I started to write my own stuff in 2005 or so, learned a few more chords on my own crappy guitar...to say I was inspired isn't quite getting the whole idea. If my soul says I am some kind of poet/artist/singer person, then I am inclined to be that way with much help and non-specific encouragement from a total stranger, who happens to write and sing what I long to write and sing, if my actual physical skill would catch up to my brain. "Don't fear, don't fall, just turn and face the wall..."
However,
God was imprinting on my life, and I was constantly in the middle of trying to figure Him out, or figure myself out in light of Him. Who the hell am I, first of all, and once I figure that out, I have to figure out who YOU want me to be, God? Seriously? Why does everything have to be so heavy? I am waging constant mind-war most of the time, even today, as I go through the motions of this regular life. "...I'm like a convict with my hands locked over my head, I'm a dead man walking..."
So, one day I am planning to sing a great JKnapp tune, Hallowed, for our special communion service at church. That same time, I get an email from someone who writes, "I know you like her music, but you should know this..." and it's a headline about Jennifer Knapp coming out. Most people would probably gasp, or be all shocked and I don't know, heartbroken? Seriously folks. I may have only seen her that one time in concert, but, really. My honest reaction, 'Duh. That was a secret?' My real shock was in how everyone else reacted. Like she was killing puppies and kittens or something. In the midst of everyone else hoo-ing and haw-ing like they had been hoodwinked or something, I was honestly taken aback by their immediate transformation into pharisees. All of a sudden, JKnapp could no longer claim Christ. What?!? "I'm the one who keeps it on the inside, locked away from judgements wrong- I'm the one who keeps it on the inside, so they leave me alone..."
Jennifer Knapp was instrumental in my figuring myself out. Ok, maybe I don't want to give her that much credit, but I can seriously re-tell the story of my youth using her song lyrics. (Judge me not, ye saints, though my history may be tainted...) I do owe her a slight debt of gratitude for my sanity, I think, and for my current understanding of God, as He revealed Himself in my life. Which, coincidentally, pretty much has a Jennifer Knapp soundtrack. Like, picture my mom screaming up the stairs for me to turn down my music, circa 1999. What music am I turning down? Jennifer Knapp. Yeah, probably a little bit of Romans up in here, or Charity...they just need to be loud. What wonderful mix-tape is Seth ejecting as quickly as possible from the Jeep's tape deck, circa 2004, (how did I marry a man who doesn't enjoy JK?)...my trusty, all-encompassing JKnapp mix, complete with the oddball Wishing Well tunes that you can't find anywhere but eBay.
Anyway, let's fast forward to a few weeks ago, shall we? Because of my very best friend, also named Jen, whom God has blessed me with, undoubtably, I was on my way to New Jersey, to see Jennifer Knapp. Not just hear a concert- which would have seriously been amazing, but to hear her SPEAK. I already thought of her as brilliant, smart, genius, wordsmith of awesomeness, and I really had only heard her music. This is where we come full circle, folks.
Where the 17-year-old version of myself just went ga-ga over a singer singin' some songs, this older, "wiser" version of me was going to meet someone who's words were seriously etched into my psyche. What, exactly, do you say to such a person? Without sounding like a simple 'fan'? But also without sounding like some idol-worshipper?
I was on my way to meet Jennifer Knapp. Deep breath. Even after convincing myself in my head that I should never want to meet her, because it would be too brief, too fleeting, and I would never be able to convey how much her words meant, her voice, her songs...and would she even want to hear that? That's a hefty load, I would think. So, rather than have to balance my absolute love for JKnapp with like, rational human behavior...I resigned myself to not wanting to ever meet her or anything like that. But, God had other plans.
I met Jennifer Knapp. Yes, I did. Should I say it again? I met Jennifer Knapp. Met, spoke with, laughed with, hell, she even saw the words to one of my songs (sneaky best friend Jen...)- how the universe lined up for that to happen...I cannot comment on that. I was blessed. Beyond anything I deserve. Beyond anything I could have conjured in my head. Even as I totally stuttered my way through the first question I asked her (in front of the rest of the audience...of course- can't speak to save my life, but writing on a tablet strung around my neck would probably be more odd than the stutter, methinks.)and even though I could hardly breathe the entire time- I was swimming in some kind of euphoria. Every moment is forever in my brain, I can call them up and recall that utterly awesome time...a gift. A gift. As if the music, the feeling within it, the truth, honesty, the real-ness of it all- as if that isn't a gift itself?
I bought another copy of Kansas on that day. Took a little drive by myself a few days after the whole thing, played that cd front to back. The second I heard those first echo-y words of Faithful to Me, that was it. I was 17 again, discovering God, discovering versions of me, filtering life through various lenses, learning how to 'be'. Listening to those songs at 31, I realize, shucks, I'm still doing that same exact thing today. Making bad decisions, figuring stuff out, failing God, watching Him turn failures into something wonderful...just trying to be more than I was the day before. "Standing on the edge of myself, you know I'm longing for it- dive in, dive in..." I will always feel like this crazy, wayward spirit, stuffing myself into this 'normal' role of mother, wife, daughter, sister, Jesus-follower woman. There are moments I want to break out of that- ready to burst out of myself and just wreak havoc everywhere, on everyone, and truthfully, a little JKnapp music will steady my soul. I've chosen to be this version of me, in spite of my many options, some might have been 'truer' than others, but more difficult, and that does come with mental/spiritual/emotional consequences. Steady on, though, with a little music to make the way merrier... "Your voice will push me over the edge, you know I'm longing for it...dive in, dive in."
This life is weird. Nonsensical, tragic, beautiful, boring, and downright cruel sometimes. Knowing other people feel the same, or at least thinking they feel the same because they write songs with words and feelings that echo my own...its a comfort.
Nobody wants to be an island.
"I may be a fool to some, hero to others, but to you..."
Monday, October 17, 2011
conditional love? NOOOO!
I talked about this on Sunday. It has my head spinning. There are phrases in the Bible like, 'faith hope and love, and the greatest of these is love.' Love love love love, it's like a Beatles song up in there. Or something.
Is love one of the most misunderstood emotions ever? Is it just an emotion? Is it more? Certainly it is more than just feeling something. It has to be a state of mind, a lifestyle, an action, more than just some little tingle in your soul. Right?
I don't believe a person can know true love until they have known Christ- and really known Him, like, hyper-intimately. For some people this will mean tragedy and pain and hurt- and they will come to Him so broken and bruised and beaten, that the only thing that keeps them from the ultimate end is that love. Not love, but Love. With a capital L. The only way to properly write the word if you are going to talk about it in the context of God, of Jesus.
So, this Love- what about it? We need it. We crave it, even if we don't know that we do. It is the only thing that can sustain us, sometimes.
But, this Love- what else? We must represent it. Jesus, His physical body, is up in heaven sitting w/ God, praying for you, for me, for that guy, and that guy over there, and everyone else, too. His Spirit, whom He sent down to us, to live within us, to power us up like spiritual batteries- He is here, and He is who will help us demonstrate, represent this Love. Capital L Love.
God's Love does not operate on conditions, because as the Word says, "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us..." We will never stop sinning- but we will want to. Once the Spirit grabs hold of us, He does the convicting. Not your fellow Christian. Not your pastor or your therapist. Our job, those of us who bear the name of Christ, who dare to call ourselves Christians- we must live this Love.
What does that mean for you? I can't tell you that. You have to decide for yourself. But think of this Love, how much God loves YOU, and all your hang-ups, internal sins, difficulties that have no definition...He Loves you. Like crazy. He wants you, He wants your life, He wants to fulfill you and make you part of His plan. You already are a part of His plan. And so is that guy, and that girl, and that dude over there...And He Loves them just as much. So, when you see that guy or that girl, wherever you see them, at whatever point in their life, in that moment, whether in sin or in obedience- God LOVES them. What is your job, then? To love them as well? I think so. I believe that. I want to live that. I cannot take care of the sin, that is for Christ alone. But the Love? That part? It has been commanded of us: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And the second is like it, Love your neighbor as yourself. And a new command I give you, Love one another as I have Loved you...
This is by far the hardest thing we are called to do, because we are exposed to sin and hopelessness and degradation of all kinds- to love in the midst of that, well, Christ gave us a hefty example to live up to. But let's try, ay?
"Hey, Peter, do you love me?"
"Yes, of course I do!!!"
"Then Love them, my sheep. Love them. One more time, brother, do you love me?"
"Absolutely, Lord, I do!"
"You heard what I said then, Love them. Take care of my sheep. Love them."
As Francis Chan says, paraphrased, I believe God wants us to love others so much that we go to extremes (EXTREMES) to help them...
Amen.
Is love one of the most misunderstood emotions ever? Is it just an emotion? Is it more? Certainly it is more than just feeling something. It has to be a state of mind, a lifestyle, an action, more than just some little tingle in your soul. Right?
I don't believe a person can know true love until they have known Christ- and really known Him, like, hyper-intimately. For some people this will mean tragedy and pain and hurt- and they will come to Him so broken and bruised and beaten, that the only thing that keeps them from the ultimate end is that love. Not love, but Love. With a capital L. The only way to properly write the word if you are going to talk about it in the context of God, of Jesus.
So, this Love- what about it? We need it. We crave it, even if we don't know that we do. It is the only thing that can sustain us, sometimes.
But, this Love- what else? We must represent it. Jesus, His physical body, is up in heaven sitting w/ God, praying for you, for me, for that guy, and that guy over there, and everyone else, too. His Spirit, whom He sent down to us, to live within us, to power us up like spiritual batteries- He is here, and He is who will help us demonstrate, represent this Love. Capital L Love.
God's Love does not operate on conditions, because as the Word says, "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us..." We will never stop sinning- but we will want to. Once the Spirit grabs hold of us, He does the convicting. Not your fellow Christian. Not your pastor or your therapist. Our job, those of us who bear the name of Christ, who dare to call ourselves Christians- we must live this Love.
What does that mean for you? I can't tell you that. You have to decide for yourself. But think of this Love, how much God loves YOU, and all your hang-ups, internal sins, difficulties that have no definition...He Loves you. Like crazy. He wants you, He wants your life, He wants to fulfill you and make you part of His plan. You already are a part of His plan. And so is that guy, and that girl, and that dude over there...And He Loves them just as much. So, when you see that guy or that girl, wherever you see them, at whatever point in their life, in that moment, whether in sin or in obedience- God LOVES them. What is your job, then? To love them as well? I think so. I believe that. I want to live that. I cannot take care of the sin, that is for Christ alone. But the Love? That part? It has been commanded of us: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And the second is like it, Love your neighbor as yourself. And a new command I give you, Love one another as I have Loved you...
This is by far the hardest thing we are called to do, because we are exposed to sin and hopelessness and degradation of all kinds- to love in the midst of that, well, Christ gave us a hefty example to live up to. But let's try, ay?
"Hey, Peter, do you love me?"
"Yes, of course I do!!!"
"Then Love them, my sheep. Love them. One more time, brother, do you love me?"
"Absolutely, Lord, I do!"
"You heard what I said then, Love them. Take care of my sheep. Love them."
As Francis Chan says, paraphrased, I believe God wants us to love others so much that we go to extremes (EXTREMES) to help them...
Amen.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The Dastardly become moreso...
First off, I must comment on the word 'dastardly'. What a word. So old fashioned, yet still so cool. I like it. I expect to find it in an Alanis Morissette song. Beautifully used, as well. I love when people use words beautifully.
But, let's get down to business.
What a ruckus I am in. What a brain-funkadelic-fuming-fiery-inferno-festival of funk. Everything goes on as normal around me- other people's issues, family stuff, marriage stuff...and then there is this. This constant barrage in my brain of completely seperate struggle. My own, my very own, all alone, just me and my head. And God. If I let Him in. Usually don't, because His light shining on this crap just makes it all the more gory and shame-inducing. How can such a battle go on in someone's head, and never make it to the outside? Does that mean I'm winning? Or do we have some kind of truce? A spiritual battle is even more real than any fought on an earthly battlefield, this I know to be TOO TRUE. So, is that what I'm doing? If so, it sucks to be a single soldier.
You know those kids that dress all in black and wear eye-liner and like, trench coats, and they just kinda wander around staring at their shoes, and disdainfully glance at people...and then pull a frustrated hand through their jet-black hair and stomp off to some dark corner to practice their creepy lurking skills? You know those kids? I am so one of those. Just internally, not externally. Is this what it is to be a prophet? Is this why prophets yearned for each other, to hang out with, and share this bizarre BEING? To be constantly choking on the Glory of God as it burns into our heads...desiring to do His good work, but dumbfounded at the Awesomeness of it, at the infintisimal speck of our own existance when compared to His...UGH! I feel like a fly pleading with the swatter. Just do it! Swat me down, squish me up! Quick, before I make everything in here vile and germy. Please!
It it often a good exercise to think of the character of God. Totally good, all loving, all perfect, all just, all wonderful, all glorious. And then think of my own character...and here is where that wonderful word dastardly comes in. I'm not totally sure of the complete definition...but I think it fits. It is really an exercise in futility to compare yourself with the character of God. But that really is our measure. Right? Trying to be Christ-like. Realizing that is unattainable, obviously, and then stewing in the anguish of that.
Then, as quickly as you can, get back up and revel in the Truth: God's Grace is amazing. That I am still loved, even as I am this horrible creature. That God still uses me for His glory- unbelievable- even though my own thoughts and actions often grieve Him so. To keep working with me? I would have fired me long ago. But that, too, shows the character of our God. Forgiving, merciful. Trying to think of that instead of the depth of my own depravity. Always trying to think of that instead of that.
But, let's get down to business.
What a ruckus I am in. What a brain-funkadelic-fuming-fiery-inferno-festival of funk. Everything goes on as normal around me- other people's issues, family stuff, marriage stuff...and then there is this. This constant barrage in my brain of completely seperate struggle. My own, my very own, all alone, just me and my head. And God. If I let Him in. Usually don't, because His light shining on this crap just makes it all the more gory and shame-inducing. How can such a battle go on in someone's head, and never make it to the outside? Does that mean I'm winning? Or do we have some kind of truce? A spiritual battle is even more real than any fought on an earthly battlefield, this I know to be TOO TRUE. So, is that what I'm doing? If so, it sucks to be a single soldier.
You know those kids that dress all in black and wear eye-liner and like, trench coats, and they just kinda wander around staring at their shoes, and disdainfully glance at people...and then pull a frustrated hand through their jet-black hair and stomp off to some dark corner to practice their creepy lurking skills? You know those kids? I am so one of those. Just internally, not externally. Is this what it is to be a prophet? Is this why prophets yearned for each other, to hang out with, and share this bizarre BEING? To be constantly choking on the Glory of God as it burns into our heads...desiring to do His good work, but dumbfounded at the Awesomeness of it, at the infintisimal speck of our own existance when compared to His...UGH! I feel like a fly pleading with the swatter. Just do it! Swat me down, squish me up! Quick, before I make everything in here vile and germy. Please!
It it often a good exercise to think of the character of God. Totally good, all loving, all perfect, all just, all wonderful, all glorious. And then think of my own character...and here is where that wonderful word dastardly comes in. I'm not totally sure of the complete definition...but I think it fits. It is really an exercise in futility to compare yourself with the character of God. But that really is our measure. Right? Trying to be Christ-like. Realizing that is unattainable, obviously, and then stewing in the anguish of that.
Then, as quickly as you can, get back up and revel in the Truth: God's Grace is amazing. That I am still loved, even as I am this horrible creature. That God still uses me for His glory- unbelievable- even though my own thoughts and actions often grieve Him so. To keep working with me? I would have fired me long ago. But that, too, shows the character of our God. Forgiving, merciful. Trying to think of that instead of the depth of my own depravity. Always trying to think of that instead of that.
Monday, September 5, 2011
many times afraid
Every once in a while, a great fear takes over me, a fear that has no root, no form, no cause. Just that horrible, breathless feeling of simple fear and probably more so apprehension. Like a great wave is building just out of my sight, just the power deep down in the water, but no real ripple to see above. But there it sits in the pit of my stomach, churning, growing.
Most of the time, this fear without definition occurs while there is a lot going on in my life. Busy with the kids, busy with my mom, general craziness at home, maybe a small uprising at church...it all kinda comes together and then lands in my gut, as this fear. Maybe. I can't say for sure. Maybe normal people just call this a generalized anxiety disorder or something. I would rather consider it God keeping me on my toes. Reminding me that I desperately need Him, and I need Him in the middle of it all. One of my favorite verses is Isaiah 41:10. Do not fear. Why? Because I AM WITH YOU. Do not despair. Why? Because I AM YOUR GOD. That is about as simple as it needs to be. And because I need His constant reminding for that, I realize I need His constant everything. All the time, everywhere, in, around, over and through me. Consume me Father, lest the world takes me under in fear, doubt, shame, and regret. I am Your child. Let me not forget that....please.
Most of the time, this fear without definition occurs while there is a lot going on in my life. Busy with the kids, busy with my mom, general craziness at home, maybe a small uprising at church...it all kinda comes together and then lands in my gut, as this fear. Maybe. I can't say for sure. Maybe normal people just call this a generalized anxiety disorder or something. I would rather consider it God keeping me on my toes. Reminding me that I desperately need Him, and I need Him in the middle of it all. One of my favorite verses is Isaiah 41:10. Do not fear. Why? Because I AM WITH YOU. Do not despair. Why? Because I AM YOUR GOD. That is about as simple as it needs to be. And because I need His constant reminding for that, I realize I need His constant everything. All the time, everywhere, in, around, over and through me. Consume me Father, lest the world takes me under in fear, doubt, shame, and regret. I am Your child. Let me not forget that....please.
Monday, August 29, 2011
so much to do, so little time.
Ok. By now we all know that being a followed of Christ is much more than going to church, living a slightly more moral than average life, and listening to the Christian radio station. But, our instructions from Christ in the parable of the sheep and goats tells us to feed, clothe, visit, etc, all of the least of these. If this were our absolute, finite instruction, then go get some gatorade cuz we gonna be busy. Thankfully, God is specific with us. He knows us each individually and has given us gifts, very specific gifts. Ephesians 2:10 tells us we are God's great masterpiece, every one of us, and we have been created in this new Christ-life to do certain good works, jobs planned out for us in advance of our very existence. Now, THAT is pretty specific, don't you think? So, while we can be zealous to serve, and jump in to any opportunity that come our way, I think there needs to be a tiny bit of prayerful caution. Is this what god had planned in advance for you to do? Or is the job, perhaps, for you to delegate? To aid another Christian in their quest to be obedient to our call to serve? Maybe? That is just something to think about. Inthe apostles delegated. Instead of blindly serving wherever the opportunity presents, we should seek the Lord's complete direction.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Along came a spider...
Ok. Awesome. Figured out how to blog via my phone. I am officially one of "those people". Addicted to my phone. Well, sort of.
I have been sans computer for two weeks. I'd like to think I am capable of surviving, but my brain is not. I need to write. For my own self. For me, not you random reader. I care not for your opinion. Honestly. I care only that what I have in my head gets out of it, and the best way is this. If it doesn't come out, it gets ugly in here. Ug uh lee. And then I can't stand being around people, or inanimate objects, or anything in this reality, actually. I find myself checking out. Or, checking in, perhaps is a better way of putting it. Because I go in. Way inside this stupid, havoc head of mine. Not quite as creepy as Vincent donofrio's brain in The Cell, but my own version of that creepiness.
So let's call this the first, introduction to mobile blogging, take 1. My kids think I am playing a video game on here and are getting too up in my face...so I must conclude, regretfully.
I have been sans computer for two weeks. I'd like to think I am capable of surviving, but my brain is not. I need to write. For my own self. For me, not you random reader. I care not for your opinion. Honestly. I care only that what I have in my head gets out of it, and the best way is this. If it doesn't come out, it gets ugly in here. Ug uh lee. And then I can't stand being around people, or inanimate objects, or anything in this reality, actually. I find myself checking out. Or, checking in, perhaps is a better way of putting it. Because I go in. Way inside this stupid, havoc head of mine. Not quite as creepy as Vincent donofrio's brain in The Cell, but my own version of that creepiness.
So let's call this the first, introduction to mobile blogging, take 1. My kids think I am playing a video game on here and are getting too up in my face...so I must conclude, regretfully.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)