Joy like a Fountain

Today was the first day of summer classes.  It felt so good to be going back to a job that I love after two weeks away.  I enjoyed the two days off that I had--I was super productive!, and staffing Chapter Focus Week last week was important (more on that later), but this morning, I was filled with such joy.  I was going to get to teach again.  I was nervous, yes, I was dreading the stacks of grading, yes, I was anxious about dealing with student emails, yes.  But to be able to talk about something that I enjoy and help others learn about it, and engage with them as people, to see the lightbulb go on in their faces...Such a joy.  As if I wasn't already excited for the semester, after class, four students talked to me about the issues they were having in lecture.  They told me that they learned so much from me today, more perhaps even than they had learned the past three days combined in lecture.  I feel bad that lecture has not been a good experience for them, but I was so encouraged that they had learned something from me today!  They learned something from me today even though I felt like I could have done a little better.  And I was honored that they felt like they could talk to me.

There is a fountain out in front of the chemistry building that I pass every morning.  I love it.  It's a pretty fountain, surrounded by some hedges.  The sound is peaceful, and when the wind is blowing, I can feel mist from it as I walk by.  It's such a simple piece of architecture, but it can say so much more than you think tiers of concrete filled with water could.  Sometimes it reminds me of baptism.  Today, it was the epitome of what I was feeling: gurgling, overflowing, joy.

At Peace

I was reading over my blog (as I sometimes do--it's so interesting to read how life and my responses to it change over time!) and I realized that I never clarified what the "secret" was that I didn't want to blog about until appropriate parties had been informed.

The surprise was that I had decided to apply for staff part-time with InterVarsity.  This was a big decision for me.  To acknowledge that God has called me to be involved in student ministry involved trusting that God knew my gifts better than I do (because I generally feel I don't have any) and trusting that what I do have to give is worth giving and is needed (because even when I feel I have a gift, I don't always feel like they matter).  I was willing to take the risk to apply, and trust that God would take it from there.  If I applied and never interviewed, okay.  If I interviewed, but didn't get the job, okay.  If I interviewed and got the job, okay!  THEN I would embark on fundraising and all the fun and "fun" stuff I didn't even know about  yet, and trust that God knew what he was doing there, too.  It's how I got to Russia--one step at a time.  (The last half of this entry shares how my trip to Russia was part of the decision to apply for IV staff.)

The next surprise is that...it didn't matter.  It turns out that the area (West Michigan) doesn't really need my skill set.  They are looking for chapter planters (I am a chapter builder--I lack the extroverted, entrepreneur-type gifts to plant new chapters; I work better with existing structures that I can take and rework and encourage and strengthen.), or staff team directors.  And so began a painful 2-3 months of sorting through this news.  Was this a 'No'?  A 'Wait'? A 'Yes, but you need to be willing and ready to leave your home to do this.'  I was not ready to leave my home to do this.  I wanted to be willing, but the truth is that I was not.  "Home" is a very special thing to me--it takes so much energy for me to emotionally invest in a place where I finally feel *safe* that the prospect of leaving my first true church family at Zion, and a job I love, and a chapter I love, and an environment I love for a part-time ministry position was distressing.  And I wasn't getting a clear answer from God.  I risked going to Russia, because God was very clear about it.  I would pray, and God would hardly let the words of the question finish leaving my lips--he would silence the question with his invitation to follow.  But here, God remained silent.  So frustrating!  And so stressful and scary!

November through late/early February was hard.  I didn't know where to go.  I didn't know what to do.  I would pray and get silence in return.  I stopped praying because I was afraid of the silence.  The voices of anxiety crowded my head and my heart and gave me no peace.

But then, the fog lifted.  The voices shut up.  With prayer from others, I'm sure, and helpful conversations with others--an IV staff worker and a professor friend.  I came to understand that my calling was to students.  Period.  My calling wasn't limited to a job.  My calling has always been, and will always be (I think) to students.  To the (older) teens and the young adults, who are trying to make sense of the world.  To encourage them and to challenge them.  How that plays out in my life will be variable, and God will guide me in that.  So for now, I'm doing the right things.  I'm teaching and I'm volunteering.  I'm planning on going back to school for further education so I can teach chemistry, hopefully to college students.  Maybe I'll go on staff with IV later.  Maybe I won't.  Maybe I'll volunteer with the youth ministry at my church.  Maybe I'll hop across the world (back to Russia??) and do something there with students.  Who knows??  God will work it out.

So I have peace again, finally.

For you shall go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
    shall break forth into singing....-Isaiah 55:12 (ESV)

For Vanderbilt (and others)

At Vanderbilt University, and many other institutions, the ability of faith-based groups to select leaders using faith-based criteria is being challenged.  Discussions are, of course, in full-swing.  It is a discussion I find my heart engaged in in a way that doesn't normally happen to me.  I generally resist taking sides, but here, my heart is sure where it stands.  And the fact that there is opposition to it, instead of instilling fear in me, only breaks my heart more.  And so I offer this prayer.  I sometimes find my fingers useful in aiding my prayers, and it is a prayer I invite others to join and to hear.

Father, my heart is moved for these students.  They are your beloved children.  They are your sons and your daughters.  They have gone to college, to Vanderbilt, for a myriad of reasons.  But I know, Lord, that college can be such a unique experience, to learn, and to grow.  And with this decision, the opportunity to grow in knowledge of you is hindered.  My heart aches for the student who is desperately seeking, and the opportunity to encounter you is shrouded by the bushes of “tolerance.”  I pray against the messages that satan would use this situation for.  I pray their ears would be deafened to them, and instead that they may hear your Truth ringing clearer than before.

I pray for our hearts as we engage with this issue.  I pray for patience and wisdom and understanding for all involved in this discourse, that we would be quick to listen and slow to anger.  Forgive us the sins we have committed.  Forgive my sins of judgement, for I know I have spoken harshly of the administration, in my heart and out loud.  Instead, turn my heart to this prayer, that you would give his heart wisdom as they seeks to do the right things for their school.  

Help us to love one another, even when we disagree.  Teach us how to love.  Because somehow we’ve lost track of what it means, and replaced it with an idyllic version, where love is easy, uncomplicated, and always happy.  So when we hit points like this, where emotions can run high, where pain and judgement begin to become stones to throw and justification to throw more, it is hard to see how love can enter the picture.  Teach us how to love one another, even when we disagree.  

For those enmeshed in the situation, at Vanderbilt, and at other universities, I pray for endurance.  I pray for strength in their hearts and souls to continue in righteousness.  That while being patient and loving seemed easier at first, I pray for the days to come when it will seem easier to react in violence and hate.  Give them grace to continue in patience and love.  Jesus, draw them back to you then, that they may find comfort in knowing you, in knowing that you’ve been there.

In all our struggles, and in all our dismay, Lord, be glorified.  Be glorified.  Even when we don’t see how, we know that you work all things together for the good of those who love you, and we know that you will glorify Yourself.  So we pray Lord, be glorified.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen

Reflections

I believe a series of some reflections are in order, as we have just added 1 to our year.

Lessons learned from being volunteer staff:
1.  I can't do everything.
Now, that doesn't mean I don't try.  Oh, how I try.  I am the type of person that tends to believe that all that's worth doing is worth doing to the highest degree.  Hence, my stint in a PhD program, exhibit A.  Exhibit B: My struggle to figure skate recreationaly.  It is an off/on relationship.  When it's on, I tend to leap into it, with some new reason to validate the expenditure of my time and money on ice time, tights, blade sharpenings, lessons, etc.  And then that reason fails to come to pass, and I feel guilty and it's off again.  Now, though, I'm tentatively stepping back on the ice.  Because it's...it's skating.  It's where my heart feels at home.  Nothing cures a heart bound in string quite like the smell of the rink, the rip of your edges, the aching numbness from spent muscles and a few too many hard spills.  ANYWAY, I'm getting off-track.  SO, staffing and otherwise being a J personality.  I felt that if I was going to give my time to college students, to love them, and guide them, and teach them, and train them, I needed to do it *right* not all wishy-washy.  I needed to prove to them, to my superiors, to the people around me, to myself, that I wasn't in this because "it was a good thing to do," or "I had the time to give," or "it's what Christians do" or whatever.  I had to do it ALL OUT.  Which leaves me struggling with saying no to my students, with guilt at the way my work schedule conflicts with opportunities to be praying with, studying with, and otherwise hanging out with Hope students.  With stress that says I can't possibly think I'm staff material, because I'm not doing this perfectly.

But I'm learning, slowly, that living faithfully and obediently is not a matter of doing everything correctly.  Living faithfully and obediently is doing what God has asked me to do. It's going where he leads me, it's speaking when he gives me words, it's using the gifts he has given me in ways that bring him glory.  God has not asked me, in this time, to give 40, or even 20, hours a week to Hope's campus.  He has asked me to step out, to be present to the lives of college students, to encourage them, and to spur them to greater faithfulness.  The other part of that is doing it in ways that are consistent with who I am in Christ.  I need not fret that I am not staff material because I am not extroverted, or because I'm not a brilliant cook, or because I wasn't a religion major, or whatever.  God has gifted me in other ways.  And it is because of THOSE gifts that I have been called, because the gifts I have are needed, too.

2.  Leading is not a matter of holding all the keys in your hand and making sure that everyone knows it.
Operating with a picture of leadership like this disconnects me in two ways.  First, it disconnects me from my students.  Because this picture of leadership demands that I am focused on having the keys.  I am focused more on gaining what's missing than on giving what I have.  I'm also focused on making sure that everyone can hear them jangling.  I'm focused more on maintaining presentation than I am on doing the work of leading.  I'm focused more of being heard than on listening (which hurts me, because I desire, above all else, to listen.  To listen, to make space for another to speak).  Secondly, it disconnects me from Jesus.  If I am to have all the keys in order to be a leader, there is no room for me to come to his feet and say, Jesus, I need you.  If I am to make sure that my keys are making enough noise, I'm too busy shaking the key ring to pay attention to anything other than the keys.  I can't listen to anything else, such as the gentle voice that would lead me to know what to do in front of a large room of people.

I was working in a track called Transformation at Compelling this year.  It's an entry-level track, if you will, a basics course.  Like second semester general chemistry.  All throughout that weekend, I struggled to be present, to my students, to Jesus.  I would mentally check out from teaching sessions, and then I would have to reengage when it came time to work in small groups.  I wouldn't listen to the teachings because I already "had that key on my key ring."  I had a hard time listening to my students because I was too focused on leading right.  I was operating under this dichotomy, where to lead meant to be put together, at the top, and to be led meant to be in need, at the bottom.  So all throughout that weekend, I was flip flopping.  Sometime mid-conference, I realized that I wasn't doing it right.  To lead well means to lead out of being led.  The learning and the teaching coexist.  I cannot teach when I am not learning.  I've seen this in my job as an instructor too--I teach the best when I am actively learning.  I can explain molecular orbital theory to my intro class the best when I'm really thinking about what molecular orbital theory *really* is and what it tells us.  Likewise, as a spiritual mentor, I'm leading the best when I'm leaning the hardest on Jesus.  Because when I'm leaning on Jesus, I have everything I need: strength, peace, words, wisdom, the Holy Spirit.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Christmas Ponderings

In two weeks, I will celebrate my 23rd Christmas.  It will be the tenth one since I became a Christian.  But I have grown in my understanding of "the reason for the season" perhaps the most in the past three years.  Christmas is more than a baby in a manger, and it's certainly more than Christmas shopping.  It's about the incarnation: GOD BECOMING FLESH.  And not in the way you would think, either.  That little baby in the manger, where the pigs and donkeys lived? That was God.  The Creator of the Universe did not come in earth shaking rumbles of thunder, flashing lights, loud music, large processions.  Instead, he came humbly, to a little town of Bethlehem, barely a dot on the map.  And he did not spend his years on earth demanding service, but instead offering of himself to touch all the squalor of this earth, and then dieing to rescue our souls.

In 2009, this story challenged how I lived.  "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14)  This man entered the lives of hundreds of outcasts of all backgrounds, to touch them, to know them.  This man met and spoke to a woman of a different culture at a well who had had 5 husbands, and presently was living with a man not her husband, eventually leaving her speechless.  Recovering from her shock, she abandoned her water jar and inquired of her town if this could possibly be the One they've all been waiting for--the Messiah? 

Jesus did not spend his time pursuing the perfect, contented, comfortable life.  He spent his life touching the lives of others in the most unheard of places.  He has touched my life in that way, and he continues to do so across the world through his people by His Spirit.  That is the motion of his life, which is lived in me.  He is writing his story through us.  How am I going to let him do that?

In 2010, this story challenged my cynicism.  Being the only Christian in my immediate family can make celebrating Christmas difficult for me.  I feel alone in the Celebration.  I feel pressured to mimic the fake celebration instead of glorying in the True Celebration, leaving me feeling bitter and cynical during a time when I certainly shouldn't be.  I realized that Christmas that this story, this incarnation story, isn't about me.  It's not about me.  It's never been about me.  It's about God, from the very first Christmas.  "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." (--me, December 23rd, 2010)

And just today, December 8th, 2011, it challenged how I view the world.  I was sitting in my car, finishing my lunch, just staring at the woods and apartment complex in front of me.  Random trees, random buildings, out on a country road, where hundreds of college students sleep and eat and work.  And then I realized: these trees?  These stressed college students?  They are the earth and the people that Jesus walked among.  Jesus spent quiet times on mountaintops, in gardens, spent quality time with some sinners and tax collectors.  Jesus LIVED *here*.  We aren't spending our lives toiling on some piece of garbage floating around in space.  God came *here.*  Deity touched this earth.  He found it worthy of his touching, encountering, knowing, loving.  So what am I doing, ignoring it, regarding it as nothing to be sneezed at?

What a gift this Christmas season is.  Every year, we get to hear the story of the Incarnation and celebrate it.  Every year, we get to know this a little better.

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.