Compelling 2011: Luke 10:1-24

-Find the text here-

This was our text for one of our quiet times this weekend.  I pulled it out of my folder and groaned: How many times have I done this passage? Just in the past calendar year alone, even, I feel like I've done it at least twice.  But then I said, Okay God. I'll give this a shot... (Which, would have been harder to do had one of my students not earlier shared a similar experience with us. :p)

Ten minutes later, I was frantically scribbling all over my paper in pink, purple, orange...running out of time, torn between dismay that I had to leave and anxiousness to go tell people!

Behold my (addended) scribbles:

Verse 16 is usually noted when your witness is rejected, and is used to say that it's not you they are rejecting, but Christ.  So don't take it personally.  But we do.  We do, and even if we know that, it can still hurt.  But the verbs here are all applied to *both* Jesus and me.  "Whoever listens to you listens to me; whoever rejects you rejects me."  Jesus is WITH US in our experience of rejection.  Is that not what Jesus came to earth for?  To know our experiences?  To live our life as we live it, to become identified with humanity so as to redeem it?  He is WITH US in our experiences of rejection.  He experiences that feeling with us.


I love verse 18: In English: "It was awesome guys, seriously."


Verse 19: "I have given you authority to trample on snakes...and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you." I have authority.  Why do I ignore it?  Why don't I use it?  Why do I live and lead as though I have none?  And it was GIVEN. It was his to give.  And he gives it to me.  (Why, escapes me...) And there's nothing to suggest it was earned, either.  


I was pretty sold back on verse 16.  I have it boxed in several times over on my sheet.  But here is where my mind/heart gets really blown:


Verse 23and 24: Then he turned to his disciples and said privately, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.”

First, there's a quiet awe: It's intimate.  He's sharing a secret with his disciples.  He's marveling at his sons' growth.  (And let me tell you, as a leader, it's such a warm, unique experience.  To see "my" freshman, now a senior, taking charge of chapter time is one thing.  But today I got to pick up my students' commitment cards.  I haven't read them all yet, but glancing at them, I am so...tickled for them.  Anyway, back to Luke)  It's that kind of thing that just..bonds them.  At least for me, as someone whose love language is words of affirmation, that speaks volumes of quiet love to me. And I ask, Intimacy?  From going out and working in towns and getting down and dirty with it's people for the sake of the message?  Intimacy from that?  Yea. Yea. (Shared experience-->intimacy)


And then, the smallest thing that just, to me, sent echoes through all the other things I've scribbled about, and really made everything just click for me.  THE VERB TENSES, PEOPLE.  Three. little. letters.  The verb is see.  The verb is not saw.  "Blessed are the eyes that _see_ what you _see_."  You see it now.  You didn't just see it then.  But you continue to see it.  You are seeing it now.  Something changed during that experience. Something fundamental happened then, whose effects are lasting.  Ongoing revelation.

Yea, as a staffworker, I'm going to be rejected.  I'm going to get looks like, 'You do what?'  I'm going to get doors shut in my faces, and I'm going to try really hard to do awesome things on campus that are just gonna fail.  But Jesus is going to be there with me.  And he's going to rejoice with me, saying, yea, that was awesome.  And he's going to change me, even as he changes my campus.  And it's going to be beautiful.

Treasure Hunts and Body Parts

So tonight at our leaders' meeting, we did a treasure hunt.  No, we didn't find buried treasure.  It's a kind of prayer walk where before hand you intentionally ask God to show you clues about who you should talk to--words, phrases, pictures, places, whatever.  Now, I have only done this once before, about 2 summers ago.  So I was kind of scared.  Excited, but scared.

So in our listening time, I got pictures of things like wood.  Specifically rugged wood, probably in association with the seminary building that shares Hope's campus.  And benches.  And orange juice.  (Yes, orange juice.)  We grouped off and headed out.  I headed out with Sandy and Carl.

We come to our first intersection.  Sandy asks, 'Left, right, or straight?'  None of us answers.  Sandy answers her own question with, 'Diagonal?' Carl and I go, 'I was just thinking that!'  And so diagonal across the intersection we go.  Love it.  Wasn't even an option and all three of us got the same message...

And we tromp off diagonally towards the heart of campus.  My attention is captured by a dude about a block away, carrying something.  He takes a drink of whatever he's carrying.  I go, if that's orange juice...!  But I never found out--he was too far away and I was too chicken to chase after him.

But we continue our way to the seminary building, pausing, listening, praying, etc.  I ask if there are benches along the road by the seminary.  Sandy says that there are on the other side.  So we circle back around to the other side.  Sandy points me to the benches, and I know before I see them which ones she's talking about and I run off across the lawn because THOSE ARE THE BENCHES.  The wood is old and rugged, and there are trees, specifically pine (which Sandy had gotten as one of her clues), next to them.  Leaves overhead was something else that had come up in my listening time but wasn't clear enough or seem to be the focus of the image.  So I knew that was the place.  So we sat down.  And we wait.  And I'm like, Great.  Here we are, sitting, in a corner, in the dark.  We're going to regroup and we're going to have nothing to say about who we talked to.  But I was so sure this was the place.  So I waited.  We waited.  A few minutes pass, and a pair of people walks by and catches my eye.  Sandy says, that guy's wearing a black coat (one of her clues).  I ask if she wants to go after him.  She says, Yes.  So we sprint across the lawn, chasing these guys down.  And as we do, my face just breaks out into this huge grin.  I have a peace and a confidence and an excitement that this is what we're supposed to be doing.  We talk to him, and we pray for him and his bad hip.  He seemed a little...suprised at what we were doing, but not freaked out.  Kind of curious.  If he had more time, and if we had more time, I would have liked to ask him if he was involved in a bible study/how his spiritual life was.  Alas, I didn't.  But Sandy has his name and maybe I'll track down his email address and see how he is later on. *shrug*

We all regroup and swap stories and it's all really cool to see how the really random clues like 'flowers' manifested themselves in stories of prayer and talking and risk-taking.  I had fun.  But I think the coolest thing was that in our group, we each got pieces of the puzzle.  We needed each other to confirm what may or may not be nudges of the Holy Spirit, and we needed all of us to figure out who to talk to.  It was really cool.  Looking foward to doing it again. =)

Secrets and Promises

My life is busy, but all is well. Out of the next 6 weekends, I have 2 where I am not traveling or doing something overnight. Next weekend is Hope IV's large group overnighter. Costumes, pumpkins, bowling, games...lots of mischief and community building to be had! The girls will be staying over at my place. ^.^ (Which means I better finish unpacking those boxes from 8 weeks ago...) The following weekend is free. The next weekend is Compelling, which is IV's Michigan division fall conference! It's a 36 hour weekend conference packed with scripture, worship, chapter-building, fun, coffee, sugar...all around awesomeness. I love Compelling. I'm always EXHAUSTED at the end of the weekend, but it's great. I went twice as a student, and this will be my third year volunteering in a track. I look forward to seeing my students (my Hope students and my small group students in the track) engage with Jesus and with scripture. The weekend after THAT is a trip to Chicago with some friends from college. Then there's Thanksgiving, which I'm probably going home for. And in the midst of all that, my spare blocks of time (you know, when I'm not working/teaching/grading) are quickly filling with planning meetings for Compelling, mentoring coffee hours, and other important chats with staff members, directors, and friends that are in weird time zones around the world. ;) All good. Just...BUSY.

I love what I'm doing. I'm teaching, I'm mentoring, I'm even skating again! And more good things are on the horizon. I wish I could write about them. I would love to write at length about the biggest visible impact that Russia has had on my life, but they are things that need to be communicated to important parties (like my family) in person. Not all of my family is tech-saavy, but enough of them are that "leaks" are likely, so I need to tell them before they hear it through the internet grape vine. I feel like I'm keeping a secret. But it's good and it's hard not to share!

In the midst of all these good and crazy and stressful things, these are some of the verses that I have been imbibing...

"My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. " --John 14:23b (NIV)

"Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." --Psalm 73:23-26 (ESV)

Remembrance and Repentance

8"Behold, you trust in deceptive words to no avail. 9Will you steal, murder, commit adultery,swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and go after other gods that you have not known, 10and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, 'We are delivered!'—only to go on doing all these abominations? 11 Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, I myself have seen it, declares the LORD. 12Go now to my place that was in Shiloh, where I made my name dwell at first, and see what I did to it because of the evil of my people Israel. 13And now, because you have done all these things, declares the LORD, and when I spoke to you persistently you did not listen, and when I called you, you did not answer 14therefore I will do to the house that is called by my name, and in which you trust, and to the place that I gave to you and to your fathers, as I did to Shiloh. -Jeremiah 7 (ESV)

I've been reading Jeremiah lately. It can be hard to read because it is so full of these proclamations of coming tragedies. It can be hard to read because of the conviction it can bring, because of the myriad of things it points out. But I love this book so far (haven't ever read it all; only about 9 chapters in). It's not vicious. Through all the punishments spoken over this people, God's longing saturates all of it. God longs for his people to listen to him, to return to him, to walk with him (see Jer 7:22-24, 9:24, also Micah 6:8 Revelation 2:4-5, to name a few). God recalls fondly of the former days, and mourns the loss of those days. God remembers what happened at Shiloh--and invites Judah to remember it as well. As with all the prophets, the message is not one of predetermined doom. Rather, it is a message of warning, of offered hope and grace. The punishments are never absolute, and the message is one written to turn God's people back to him. I love how God's emotions are so intertwined in this prophet's writings. Throughout it all, God asks in mourning and anguish, Why have my people left me? Are they such that they would follow other gods--and then come back to my house and tell me that they love me?? Oh, that you would repent and return to me! Why have they ignored me? I have sent them prophets, I have called to them, but they do not respond to me!

I am so grateful for the Word given to us so that we can know the heart--this longing, aching, desperate heart!-of God.

Weaving

It's getting late, and it's been a full week so far, so I don't have much time before I need to go to bed, but I wanted to blog a few things.

It has been a week of ups and downs. Nothing extreme, which is good, but still swinging from optimism to anxiety and back, sometimes within the same day.

I love the way that walking with HIM is a sequence of opportunities he invites us into. I love the way that he gives us promises in his Word and then gives a chance to take him at it. I am eager to discover what Joshua discovered. I am eager to discover that HE will be with me wherever I go. I love the reminders of the promises that I have kept and collected and (in some cases) worn over the years, especially as of late, and being able to know them deeply, and yet there are still more promises to discover, still more depth to the promises already given.

We were doing an exercise in the Mediterranean room (where teachers teaching in that region go to learn things specific to their region) this afternoon and there were books out on the table and shirts and other cultural items tacked on the wall, and I find a penetrating curiosity about them, and one I've felt before as well. I don't know if it's just curiosity or indicative of something more. I'm not dwelling on it or anything, but something I'm noting.

God is good.

What's in a Name?

Find the audio below the video on this page. Watch the video, too (but after listening to the talk on identities).
http://josephjlee.com/2009/10/26/cardboardtestimonies/


My Cardboard Testimony:

unlovely, broken-->WHOLE, BELOVED
used, worn, second-hand, worthless-->NEW, BEAUTIFUL, CHOSEN

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine. --Isaiah 43:1

=D

Praise God for conversations with students!

Over the past several months as I've been volunteering with InterVarsity at Hope, I have felt privileged to be included in my students lives. One girl has insisted that I come over to have tea, another wants to make sure she keeps up-to-date with what goes on in my life with Russia and things, and I've been able to build a handful of other good relationships with students through random encounters at the Kletz (student restaurant/coffe bar) and on the sidewalks. And apparently they missed me at Chapter Focus Week!

But I am amazed at how God has been able to use anything and everything to do this. Tonight, I needed some help with an errand relating to my trip to Russia, and one of my students had offered to help me with it. It felt really weird to invite a student along for an errand. But we went to get shakes afterward, and we had a really, really good discussion. God took an errand and turned into a meaningful, witnessing conversation. I feel so honored to have been able to have that discussion with her!

God is moving!

IV LINK

I have watched this video three times over the past few months. It still slits my heart.

Aches

37As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, 38saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" 39And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." 40He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."

from Luke's account of the gospel, chapter 19 (ESV)

Enough

Over the past few weeks, words like 'enough,' 'sufficient,' and 'abundance' have been on my heart. I have been challenged by God's 'more than' character.

I think it started with a sermon several weeks ago about forgiveness, I think. I don't remember the sermon topic, but I do remember the comparison Pastor Ryan made between the love we can offer and the love that Christ offers us. We seek to be loved. We seek to be loved completely, in a way that does not hide or shudder or turn when we are not perfect. Our relationships with other humans cannot provide that, even within marriage. But Christ does. Our love has limits. His does not. With him, "there is no variation or shadow of turning." (James 1:17, NKJV).

In 2 Kings, chapter 4, there is a story of how God multiplied a widow's jar of olive oil to pay her husband's debt that, being unmet, would have meant that her two sons would be sold as slaves as payment. It is an awesome story, and if you haven't read it, I suggest doing so. Here, in this story, I was challenged to trust fully in God's provision. I had been anxious about money for a while, and anxious about a lot of other things though I wasn't sure exactly why. This is our God, the story in 2 Kings spoke. The God who gives abundantly and in love and care.

I decided to trust him, and I gave my concerns to him, especially concerning my trip to Russia (57 days!!) in regards to ability and resources. And yet again, he has proven faithful. I have been awed several times since November at the way God has chosen to show his care for me. But that doesn't mean I was any less shocked when someone from my church told me that they had collected $1928 for my trip. And that was up from $754 that weekend. Which means that I am now 95% funded--without any sign of slowing down. The oil did not stop pouring until no more jars had been collected. I am so blessed. So blessed. I felt (and still feel) saturated.

He also continues to speak to me this Holy Week, through scripture, through prayer vigils, through shadow services. He himself is enough. Amen.

Waiting

This about sums up my life and prayers right now...

Word of God, speak

As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, "Follow me." And he rose and followed him.

And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, " Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But when he heard it, he said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I come not to call the righteous, but sinners." (Matthew 9:9-13, ESV)

This evokes questions for me, challenges me. It feels like a cup of desert coffee. Strong, bold, but warm and satisfying. What questions, thoughts, feelings do these words elicit for you?

The Incarnation: An Experience in Childhood and Play-doh

As I sit with the challenges I find in my hands and press in to the heart of God, I discover not that I am too weak, but that I am too strong.

The problem with letting the Spirit search your thoughts (Ps 139:23) is precisely that you have to let the Spirit search your thoughts. You don't do the searching, and present what you find to God and ask him what he thinks. You don't do the offering. You have to let down your crossed swords to give him passage. It's understanding that what the Spirit finds only the Spirit can heal. You have to put down your tools, your chisels, your hammers, your chainsaws. He doesn't pull out scorpions for you to whack with your mallet. How hard it is for me to put down my weapons. How hard is it for me to offer my body as a living sacrifice (Rom 12:1). Not just my resources, not just my alliegiance, but my body—every single part of me. Every breath, every intention, every sin, every fear and weakness. You can’t crawl onto the altar and leave your arm behind.

Incarnation seems like this wonderful, Jesus-movement word; the new-old buzz word in living a Christian life: Be Jesus! Live like he lived! Sounds pretty good, right? Problem: As Ligenfelter points out in the first chapter of "Ministering Cross-Culturally," Jesus was born into our world as a child. Jesus did not pop out of Mary's womb with all knowledge and power. Jesus had to learn at the knees of Mary and Joseph and the rest of his community how to grow into a child, and eventually into a Jewish man. Jesus, the Son of God, was dependent upon those in his community to raise him. I don't know if I'm humble enough to admit that I don't know things. I've never hidden behind the "everything's fine in my life" mask, but I have always hidden behind the "I don't need your help" mask. My life is hard, but I can handle it. And see, look. My grades and even my driving record prove it! I don't need your help. But living in another country in another culture will require admitting that I not only don't know their language or currency, but that I don't understand their customs, I don't know how to be accepted into their circles, I don't know how to act in their everyday situations. I will have to allow myself to be taught these basic things.

The incarnation requires me to live without walls. There are no walls between me and those I come to serve. Jesus sends out his seventy disciples in Luke 10 without any means of their own protection or provision, intentionally leaving them dependent upon the hospitality of the towns to which they are sent. In this way, relationships and trust can be built. But it also takes away a sense of protection, safety, and security. God has been showing this to me in many ways through small group studies at church, in my conversations with him, but also through our bible studies with my IV students. Gardening, harvesting, all of these keep popping up in our listening times, in our scriptures. Gardening requires getting on your knees, in the dirt, and getting dirty. And every portion of time I spend with my students, I am challenged to stay in the dirt. Incarnation does not allow for retreat into bubbles of safety, cleanliness, superiority. Incarnation is not safe. It is vulnerable, it is dirty, it is anything but enviable.

Everything about the incarnation challenges how I live my life. And I am bridling at that, bristling at the ambiguity and the vulnerability that I am being called to live into. This is living in surrender, laying aside everything of self in exchange for the joys and pleasures of the Most High (Ps 16:11).

Mary did you know?

Written December 23rd, 2010

In this holiday season, it is no surprise that our attentions are consumed with thoughts of ourselves. What gifts are we going to get this year? How am I ever going to find the right gift for my aunt so that she doesn't think less of me? As Christians, we don't really like those thoughts, because we know that it's not about the gifts, that "the reason for the season" is Jesus. And we might take action steps to de-materialize Christmas. Thank God.

But I wonder if we still have not eradicated our consumerism, even if in our actions and words we acknowledge Jesus. The question that I run into is, How can I celebrate, really celebrate Jesus, when I feel that I am alone this season? How can I understand his gift when I have no one to show it to me that makes it more than words I'm insisting on and maybe some lip service at grace? What does Jesus mean to *me* this holiday season?

But looking at Luke this morning, the sheer amount of praise to the Lord woven into the story stuck out to me. Because the truth of the matter, is that this story is not about Christianity. This story is not about us. This story is not about us. The story is about God. This is his story, and it is the fact that he was faithful in his promises that spurs praise. Mary and Elizabeth didn't know that Jesus would change the world. They didn't know that there would be wars fought over and for his name. They praised because God had shown his mercy and his faithfulness. The God that they had heard had liberated their people from slavery some thousand years prior had come again, just as he promised. They themselves, even before his birth, were receiving the gift of God: his grace, faithfulness, and mercy.

The Christmas season about God's story, and we celebrate that he has chosen to involve us in his story, his beautiful story of redemption. We don't celebrate how perfect he's made our lives (which he hasn't), but that he is faithful and is making all things new.

Calling

I know that I can't cover the whole of missionary theology here, and I know that I don't know enough of it or of the Spirit to even pretend to, but here's what I want (and feel I need) to offer to the conversation about calling and missions work.

Somehow, in my personal experience, calling and missions have been divorced from our relationship with Christ. Missions work and callings are for pastors, for self-sufficent, extroverted men who know how to bring people to Jesus. As I consider my current situation (temporary grad-school drop-out heading to Russia to do 'missions work'), I'd like to state that there was no directive from God that said, 'You're ready for missions! I'd like to send you to Russia. Hop to it!' There was no fire from God that made me weak in my knees, no tears of repentance to my ignorance of the world.

There is, however, a Voice that says, 'Come with me. Do you trust me? Do you believe that I am enough and that I am faithful?' I am weak in my knees and in my heart when I consider raising support--both financially and spiritually. I weep for the pain--the pain of our humanity, our collective need to know Christ to be complete, the cry of desiring to be release from bondage. I pray desperate prayers of the burdened, saying, Lord, I am young, I am inexperienced, and I know that I don't know you half as well as I should. How can you send me?

'Calling' is not made up of spreadsheets. Calling is not a career choice. Calling is not an excericise in creative thinking, asking 'How can I imitate Jesus?' Calling is a walk. Calling is a relationship. Calling is part of every day. Calling is following Jesus in whatever it is that he is asking of you in a moment in time. And for me, in this moment in time, Jesus is asking me to take him at his word, inviting me to discover that he is deeply, abidingly faithful, that he is enough, and that he is Lord. And it is for that reason I go to Russia, because of the pain in that country that I know that HE can heal. Because it asks me to trust radically in his provision, and to trust that he knows who I am better than I do.

Missions work CANNOT be done without the Holy Spirit. Missions work is *fundamentally* HIS work. Missions work is not building houses. Missions work is not teaching English. Missions work is not translating Bibles, it is not preaching on the beaches to any listening ear. Missions work is GOD's work of redemption and healing and saving; it is only by his grace that we are invited along for the journey. We are first and foremost HIS partner. A missionary's life is not split up into a vertical relationship with God and a horizontal relationship with our neighborhood. A missionary's life is an arc, where the vertical and the horizontal are intimately connected. A missionary must be continually watching for the Wind of the Spirit, listening for the Voice of the Spirit. A missionary must have the heart and the mind of Christ. And that is not just a way to say 'a gentle and humble heart.' A missionary MUST be indwelled with Christ Himself through His Holy Spirit.

What a humble calling. What a challenge to be surrendered to Him. What a privilege to be called to work alongside him.

Humility

As I grow older and begin to try to find my way in the "real world," I find it hard to be teachable. The pressure to figure it out and to get going somewhere prevents me from listening well to God and his Truth. That kind of listening takes time and is done in quiet places, and it can't be done with charts and lists. I find, therefore, monks process of entering the monastery encouraging. I think I read somewhere that the initial process takes 4-6 years. I'm encouraged by the way that that kind of discernment is given that much time. In this time of discernment in my own life, to which I am giving a year, not even focused exactly, I tend to feel pangs of guilt for not knowing where I'm going. And that's hard for me. I always feel a certain sense of pride that through most of college, I knew exactly what I was doing. I never did that whole "change your major 7 times" thing. I declared sophomore year, and never changed. There was a period of a few weeks junior year when I wanted to be an english major, but only because I was tired of problem solving: I wanted to read books and write about them and think about things other than integrals and metabolic pathways and atoms. And as I'm considering things like mission (which I never, ever thought of before), I am frustrated by the sense that the people around me in ministry always seemed to know this path. It's encouraging, therefore, to know that even people who have the desire to spend their lives in the monastic lifestyle spend years listening to the call of God and trust the order above them to be discerning with them.

Another place where God is humbling me is in regards to the issues I have with megachurches. I tend to be skeptical and harsh when it comes to giant churches with cushy seats full of white, middle-class Americans. But I have to acknowledge that I began my church life at Suburbia Megachurch. In the beginning, it was good: I was involved with the youth group, I had friends, I did those church retreats that I heard about, and I was learning lots about Jesus. But in the later years, there was some drama in the youth group, and it colored my remaining time there and my visits back there during my college breaks. I even toyed with the idea of finding a new church for holidays back at my parents'. However, the past few times I've been back to Suburbia Megachurch, God has used it to remind me of where I've been: that my first experiences in worship were there, how I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to find 1 Timothy 5:12. My walk started there. The first time I started to realize this, it floored me. God began to bring back the color to the picture of my high school life that I had left in grey-scale.

But God wasn't done. I had been intending on returning to Holland in time to go to Smaller Church this Sunday. I was looking forward to it; a feeling that's been missing for a while until I found Smaller Church. However, that didn't work out, so I conceded to go to Suburbia Megachurch instead. I wasn't particularly thrilled, but I went anyway. I tried to be brave and sit in the floor seating area but encountered stares at the ends of rows with empty seats in the middle, so I retreated to my traditional balcony area, which was also full. I finally found and asked for space at the very top of the balcony. After trying to worship, I sat down to listen to Suited Pastor's sermon projected on the screen so everyone could see. And I found that I had a hard time listening. I had no reason to trust the people around me, no reason to trust Suited Pastor. I had no reason to listen to what he was saying, except for the fact that he was speaking the Word. I listened well enough that I recognized that. In that recognition, I tried harder to listen, to really listen. And in my listening, I realized that Suited Pastor was a man, responding to God's call, the way I'm a woman discerning God's call. I realized that Suited Pastor was just a man called to preach the gospel to America's middle class. And what a hard demographic to preach to. I realized just how counter-cultural the gospel was to this demographic, and I sat in amazement at the potential held in those walls. Here was a church that had the people and the resources to do significant Kingdom work in a way that Smaller Church and Progressive City Storefront Churchplant didn't. Not to say that either church's work is any more or less impactful or important. Only to say that here was a church, despite it's prosperity, that continued to bring the gospel to the people, trusting in God's Word and Spirit, and was doing it's best to manage their numbers (and, based on the bulletin, seemed to be doing it well).

The further along I walk down this road, the more I learn how much I need to be humbled. This isn't going to be easy, but I know that it is worth it.

You said, ask and I'll give the nations to you...

Two weeks ago, after quite possibly the most awkward interview I've ever been through and apparently lengthy reference calls (I got to hang out with the wife of one of my references and she said that he was on the phone for 45 minutes!), I was invited to teach overseas with Teach Overseas.

With confirmation in prayer and through others, I accepted last week. Which means....I'M GOING TO RUSSIA IN 8 MONTHS!

As nervous as I am to go overseas, I know that it is the right thing for me to do. As daunting as it seems to raise support, I know that God will provide.

I feel like this is the next step in my discipleship. I feel like I won't be able to give him adequate praise until I experience his provision, until I take this leap of faith. I want and need to see him work, to give him the opportunity to reveal himself to me in this way. I need to put myself in a position where can show himself to me outside of the personal realm of my heart. Just as the priests had to step foot into the Jordan before the Lord parted it (Joshua 3:13), I have to step into places of uncertainty.

I am eager for this opportunity to take this step of faith. It fills me with joy. Not necessarily happiness persay, because I am certainly anxious about many aspects of this trip, but there is a welling joy in my heart knowing that I am following my God, wherever he leads.

Slowing Down the Whirlwind

When I set out to create this blog, my intent was to be a place to write about all solid stuff that would come out of my times spent in Scripture (in various ways), or reflections on articles I still want this blog to be encouraging, even challenging. It hasn't taken quite that shape lately. Even as I write these opening sentences, I realize the importance of what I'm going to describe about my life lately.

So let's start by describing what, exactly, my life looks like right now, and how it's gotten there over the past few weeks:
I decided to move to Holland into an apartment on 12th street. Five days before I would have to move out of my apartment in Lansing, my roommate calls me with some less than stellar news that she might not be looking for a roommate after all. So I find myself a third of the way packed (past the point of no-return, but the end still nowhere in sight), without a place to move to in five days time in a town 100 miles away. The job that I had set my sights on doesn't respond to my resume or return my phone call (the way they said they would).

It's now about 4 weeks later. I am living on 16th street, and I have a good part-time job. It's been a long story of one step forward, three steps back. But in every instance when I've taken those three steps back and I'm stranded, something comes along to give me a little bit of hope. They've been days when I'm frustrated and scared, and I say, Okay God, what do you want from me? And then, the next day, I get a little ray of sunshine. It's been like following breadcrumbs.

You would think after the way I've seen God provide all this for me, after the way I've seen God pave my way to Urbana, after the way I was able to afford IVLI when it cost more than what I had to my name, that I would be so grateful and hopeful for how this current adventure that I've found myself in is going to play out. I'm back where I want to be and feel at home in, and I get to see how God might use me to answer the prayers I've been crying about for Hope College.

My bills still cost more than what I make, my apartment is not unpacked, I don't know where I'm going to go to church, I don't have friends to hang out with, I'm worried about the roommate who's going to move in next week. I'm worried that I'm being absolutely ridiculous by even THINKING about missions/ministry work. I'm scared to send out reference forms for volunteering with Hope IV. I'm excited to hear back from Teach Overseas, but nervous that they'll actually "hire" me--I'd have to raise almost $5,000.

I don't feel qualified to be asking questions about my calling. I don't feel qualified to be applying for ministry opportunities, whether at Hope or in Russia. I can't even knock on my neighbor's door to ask to borrow a mixer, so how am I supposed to go renew campus? Some people are perfectly content to "worship love and personal dignity." How do I combat love with love?

I went to a prayer meeting at Engedi this evening, and while someone was praying for me, they used this picture of having one foot on the solid rock and the other in the shifting sand. The solid rock doesn't feel very solid when you aren't standing on it completely. It just feels in the way. But I know, I know that when I am standing in His Temple, in His Courts, when I am reading the Word like Oliver, asking, "Please, sir, can I have some more?" that life steadies. That strength is in my veins, peace is in my heart, and words are in my mouth.

It's only when those things are true that I can dream with the vision of God: campus renewal, joy from mourning, freedom for the oppressed, the very earth being cared for: darkness pushed back. I've been trying to figure everything out on my own, including myself, denying the inherent fact that I cannot redeem anything. My pride has kept me from seeking the very one that has the Authority and Power to redeem all those things, and would take this weight from my shoulders.

Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
or stand in the way of sinners
or sit in the seat of mockers.

But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night. -Psalm 1:1-2

Hijacked

I love it when the Holy Spirit decides to interrupt your day and suddenly it's 2.5 hours later...

I definitely was going to get some application writing done, call my Dad, and instead, I decided to pray for a bit and then it's 8:30, the sun has gone down, and I haven't eaten dinner. And I could definitely keep chillin' with Jesus for the rest of the night, but I have some pressing things to do...like turn on lights and put on a sweatshirt and finish this application! And feed myself.

I'll post an update of what's going on a little later. Suffice to say that I'm learning the art of surrender.

The Appalling Inefficiency of Sabbath
Posted At : September 24, 2010 7:39 PM
Related Categories: Sabbath

I am currently on sabbatical living among and observing various expressions of Christian community. In the future I will blog about what I am discovering regarding Christian community – particularly among the marginalized, but at the moment I’d like to consider the appalling inefficiency of rest.
If I confess that God made humans with intention and foresight (“fearfully and wonderfully” as the Psalmist puts it), I must either concede that God created terribly inefficient creatures, or that there must be some purpose in dormancy which is built into creation. I think it is safe to say that every living thing has regular periods of sleep, hibernation, dormancy or some kind of inactivity.
Humans appear to be genetically programmed to go dormant every single day of our lives one third of the time. If anyone tried to market a computer or car or appliance that only worked 2/3rds of the time it would be laughed right off the market (Mac users please exercise restraint in tossing jabs at us PC users). Since God neither “slumbers nor sleeps,” (Psalm 121:4) and since we are made in the image of our Creator, it stands to reason that there was some purpose for God deviating from making a creature that does not require sleep. Seems as though humans are not like God in that critical respect – that of 24-7 work (Jn 5:16-17).
We do know, however, that this sleepless God chose to “Sabbath” after making the universe. The resting of God was completely voluntary. It was not because God was exhausted after all that ex nihilo “Let there be …” stuff (Gen. 2:3). God chose rest – perhaps to give us an example. Because in addition to building dormancy into creation, God commanded that humans were not to work one full day in seven. Genetically we’d already lost our ability to function 1/3 of the time, but then God had to go and tell us to do no work one seventh of the remaining time that we could otherwise be productive.
Add to all this the dozens of feast and festival days – several of which included the command to “do no work,” and you’ve got a workforce which is, either by design or command, inactive about half of the time! The computer game “Age of Empires,” where we get to play God, would be pretty boring if your entire population did nothing half the time.
Now with a labor force which is only available to work 50% of the time you’d think God would be pretty insistent about snappy productivity during those few waking hours of work each year. There’s plenty of being fruitful, multiplying, subduing the earth, and having dominion over every living thing to get done (Gen. 1:28). Oddly, however, God commands an agrarian Israel to a sabbatical year. No planting, watering, fertilizing, weeding and harvesting for a full year – not just once in your life, but every seven years. If an adult worked for 50 years of their life, five of those years would be sabbatical years.
So here’s what I am only just beginning to learn about the beauty of regular periods of dormancy.
Identity: Our work can get perversely attached to our sense of identity and worth. We can very easily begin to think that we are what we do. I believe that the genetic and Biblical call to inactivity aids us in separating our identity from our activity. Our personhood is not defined by our work.
Trust: Think of it. Every year agrarian Israel relied on a good harvest to live through the winter, spring and summer before another harvest was available. But God told them not to plant anything for one full season in every seven. That means that after they’d harvested crops in year six, they had to survive somehow until the harvest came in year eight. This required dependence on God.
For a variety of reasons, in my sabbatical period we have experienced a diminishment in income and an increase in expense. We are learning how to trust God for daily bread in deeper ways. While here in the UK, where housing costs (along with many other things) are more expensive, we are dependent upon the generosity of communities to provide for us. We are being stripped of our sense of financial independence and self-sufficiency.
Measurability: For many in the West and certain parts of Asia productivity is measurable. Results, outcomes, growth and production are things toward which we strive (I find this a bit less so in many African and Latin American cultures). Sabbath denies us the indulgence of measuring our outcomes. We must satisfy ourselves with internal growth, more space for intimacy with God and relationship with others. These things are hard to quantify. We must learn to be content with things which cannot be counted – deeper encounters with God, time to spend with a friend, rediscovering what it means to be a member of a family, and space simply to “be.”
While I have not quite yet entered into a state of transcendent, sabbatical bliss, I have begun to slow down just a little and am learning to separate my sense of self from my work, to grow my dependence upon God and others, and to deny myself the measurability of productivity.


http://www.urbana.org/blogs/blog.main.leastofthese.cfm
(Italics mine)